Monday, February 26, 2007

Number Threeeeeeee!

Yesterday I broke the Sabbath...if I were in ancient Jerusalem and had gotten caught, yours truly would have been stoned and presently attired in a burial shroud of some sort. Instead I am here typing away on my humble blog, stone free.

Melissa needed a better pregnancy test, one of the early variety. We had used one of the cheap-o variety from the Dolla store (I call it the Dolla store as the store's marquee has had the "R" burnt out for several months with no sign of ever getting fixed--talk about crackerville), and it had a possible 2nd line faintly appear. Three months of trying makes one desperate, so we went to Walmart and risked any stone wielding ancient relatives en-route. None of them showed, and the fancy-schmancy digital pregnancy test (who thought of that?) is still showing "pregnant" this am.

Cool! I am going to be a daddy again! Baby number three, that tie breaker tyke who'll make me bemoan more diapers and formula purchases, but who'll have me wrapped around her little finger.

I am pretty sure it'll be a girl, and that story will have to come from Melissa's mouth, as I am certainly not going to let you quote me from here. :)

The leader of the names for girls is Lillian, with the middle name not quite defined in my mind (sorry babe).

Here's to baby number three and a great pregnancy for Melissa!


Friday, February 16, 2007

Fav Nickel Creek Song

There is this group who plays bluegrass-infused music. And it kicks arse. If you have not heard of them, I suggest you give them a shot. itunes has them, and the local library most likely will have their CD as well. I am going to post my favorite song by them (which I just so happened to listen to while I walked to work this am), off their self-named album.

If you get a chance, check out their official website. It is kinda out of date, but has some blogs, journals, and misc stuff.

When You Come Back Down
by Nickel Creek

You got to leave me now, you got to go alone
You got to chase a dream, one that's all your own
Before it slips away
When you're flyin' high, take my heart along
I'll be the harmony to every lonely song
That you learn to play

When you're soarin' through the air
I'll be your solid ground
Take every chance you dare
I'll still be there when you come back down
When you come back down

I'll keep lookin' up, awaitin' your return
My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn
And I won't feel your fire
I'll be the other hand that always holds the line
Connectin' in between your sweet heart and mine
I'm strung out on that wire

I'll be on the other end
To hear you when you call
Angel, you were born to fly
If you get too high I'll catch you when you fall
I'll catch you when you fall

Your memory's the sunshine every new day brings
I know the sky is calling
Angel, let me help you with your wings

When you're soarin' through the air
I'll be your solid ground
Take every chance you dare
I'll still be there when you come back down
When you come back down

Take every chance you dare
I'll still be there when you come back down
When you come back down

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Who's doing the work??

Had to post this :)

Who's working anyway?

The population of this country is 300 million.

160 million are retired.

That leaves 140 million to do the work.

There are 85 million in school.

Which leaves 55 million to do the work.

Of this there are 40 million employed by the federal government.

Leaving 15 million to do the work.

There are 2.8 million are in the armed forces

Which leaves 12.2 million to do the work.

Take from that total the 10.8 million people who work for state and city

And that leaves 1.4 million to do the work.

At any given time there are 188,000 people in hospitals.

Leaving 1,212,000 to do the work.

Now, there are 1,211,998 people in prisons.

That leaves just two people to do the work.

You and me.

And there you are,

Sitting at your computer, reading jokes.

Nice. Real nice.

I heard the harbingers of spring this morning...

I heard the robins singing as I was riding one of my bicycles in to work this morning. I thought I'd heard a faint warbling reach my ear last week, but wrote it off as a vain imagining as it was colder than the seventh layer of hell out--but today there is no doubt as to the closeness of the next season. It is true that the vernal Equinox is still some weeks away (think St Patty's + 4 or 5 days), but the birds don't lie as to the territories they are so vainly trying to screech out in our backyards (I always thought they'd sound much less charming if they had a Brooklyn accent and opposible thumbs--they could carry things liek bats and shout profanities in cognizant form instead of their lovely birdsong).

I love birdsong, in fact it is one of those "fillers" which are so painfully missing during the wintertime. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the winter. I am thaknful I am able to find wonder in each season, but the plaintiative chee-chee of a chickadee while on the lift during snowboarding trips is a tiny solo of the great cacophony of birdsong to come. Some birds sing alone during the winter, but their winter movement is minimalist to the sweet strains of spring.

I know, I am a hopeless romantic--or a dork, however you tend to bend.

I wanted to shift gears as I am leaving for 5 days for Grandmothers funeral. I wanted to post the poem I read at the Orem part of her funeral. It comes from Oliver Wendel Holmes, and the first time I heard it was in Prof Mike Robinson's Philosophy 1010 class 5 years ago. it has stuck with me ever since as it feels like a metaphor for our lives:

The Chambered Nautilus

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sail the unshadowed main,--
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,--
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil;
Still, as the spiral grew,
He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn;
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:--

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!

Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-94)

I will leave with this thought so perfectly illustrated by O.W.H.--ours is the life which is meant to grow. This place is but a small room in the vastness of our existence, a part of what we are, but not the whole.


Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Update 2-6-07

So this post is deticated to stream-of-consciousness ramblings. If you don't know what that is, here is a link to wikipedia (that collegiate spurned e-resource that anyone can edit!)

**Pardon the spelling mistakes**

tired and bored, aprehensive. work. what the hell is going on with it? I wish they'd make up their minds. I shoudl be come a policeman. zach gave me that link to the honolulu PD, I wonder if they call me. Vegas, the testing is in vegas. I shoudl learn to play poker, even though it si against my religion. money for nothing and chicks for free. the 80's were so weird. they remind me of my older siblings, Anna, Dave, Chip. It was nice to see my cousin David Stubbs at grandmothers funeral on saturday. What a day. It felt like Sunday, ecept stronger. My head hurt fdor hours after all that crying I did, but I feel ok now, drained or something. I sluffed church on Sunday, was so tired. tired,. tired now, tired. I shaved this morning, hate shaving. I wonder if my air cleaner will arrive today. i wish the ebay seller would give me a tracking number, he has 60 k in feedbacks, 99.9% good, I hoep he doesn't screw up mine. I need to go back to school. I need to make 50 k a year. 30 k a year isn't enough. Tax return was samller this year than last, what gives? darn babysitting is only worth 1.25 a hour after taxes. I hope the dems don't totally screw up the tax breaks Bush gave us. I wonder about him. is he a good guy or a good old boy? are all politicians crooked? I wonder how much they make, I need a good job. I could be an honest politician. I wonder if all of them think they are honset enough? is their morality any differnt than mine? Do they justify little things too? I think yes, they are people just like everyone else. What are the lines which seperate the criminal from the non-criminal? I think when we die we'll see the criminal are not so differnt than we, they just carried out the thought that presents itself to everyone. They act out of desperation, addiction, hatred, greed, fear, etc etc, ad-nauseum. thios is getting boring, I am hungry, Melissa works tonight, I drive to TX in 1 day. holy poop, my butt is going to be sore form sitting for 24 hrs.