Day 27: Weekend

 
Even though it’s been a short work week (and a strange one), I am really looking forward to the weekend. It’s Friday here at work and you can feel it in the air. People are in lighter spirits and you can tell they’re preoccupied thinking about what they want to do over the weekend.

I really want to get some reading done this weekend. It was one of my New Year’s resolutions to read more and I haven’t really done much lately. I started reading Dune a while ago (which I was really enjoying). I feel bad though because I haven’t set aside any time to do that in a while. So why not this weekend?

I also want to try and get some packing done. The upstairs office mainly contains my stuff and it is a royal mess. There are things strewn everywhere and some of it I haven't even touched since I moved up here. It’s going to take some time to go through it all and decide what I can do without and what I should hold on to.

Day 26: Of Ice and Healthcare

The roads were a bit icy this morning and my car was still covered in snow and giant icicles, but I made it into work at the normal time without any major mishaps. Work was kind of crazy though. After being sick last week and missing a day and half this week because of the weather, I had a whole lot of stressful catching up to do.

When I got home today I was glad to see that the snow was still there to greet me. I spent an hour and a half on the phone being transferred from person to person trying to get some insurance stuff worked out. I've spent 6+ hours this week alone trying to get a hold of someone. However, because of the southern blizzard and the massive influx of applicants thanks to Obama Care, I have dedicated to memory the 5 classical pieces that blue cross blue shield plays when they put you on hold.

I had 2 mins left before I gave up for tonight when a young girl finally broke through the monotonous music to help me. It only took five minutes and I felt a huge surge of relief once that was over. I needed to talk to them before tomorrow (the end of the month), or else I would have been dropped from the plan for good. I think God is trying to teach me to be more patient.

Day 25: Snow Day

Today has been great. It’s been one of those days where you get a little taste of everything. After last night's snow and the plunging temperature, the roads were coated with a sleek skin of ice. I wasn't too surprised when I found out from my boss that work had been canceled.

Katie and I watched some TV together in the morning while we drank coffee and ate a really great breakfast that she made. The world outside was just as we left it the night before, save for the fact that the sky was a deep blue and not a snowflake was to be seen falling from the sky. I had to wake up and look out the window several times last night to make sure that the snow yesterday was real. It’s interesting how snow makes the world look so much brighter at night.

We geared up and took a short walk outside. I was amazed by the transformation that had occurred from the day before as we got a close-up view of it. The vibrant contrast between the Georgia red clay, that I have come to know and love, and the white snow was dazzlingly brilliant. I haven’t done any photography in a while, but I tried to do it some justice while we were out.

We walked along the trail that goes behind our house for a little while, soaking in every detail. A golden retriever, a father, and a young girl came up behind us as we were exploring. The man was pulling his daughter along behind him on a little sled as the dog was scouting ahead making sure that the path was clear. Small red scratches were visible across her face, but the blood was stymied by the frigid air so she didn't notice. A twinge of guilt spread across the father’s face as he noticed. He then joked about how he let her sleigh down the incline and into the bushes because his wife wasn't there to stop them.

The snow felt strange under my feet and it made an unexpected scrunchy sound, like a flour-filled balloon being pressed between your fingers. It was a dry and powdery snow. Little prints of cats, people, and deer could be seen breaking up the white monotony. I tracked some large clumps of the floury substance into the house. I was disturbed at first, but then I realized that the snow would just melt and turn into water. No real mess. It was then that I decided to call it magic dirt.   

A little later I was able to start and finish our taxes, catch up on the phone with several people, and spend a few hours on hold and then arguing with health insurance providers. These were all things I would normally have done after work, but I did them all during the day thanks to the snow. This was my first real snow day!

Day 24: Let It Snow

So a couple of weeks ago I saw a few flakes fall from the sky and I was quite amazed at the sight of them. Today however, the frozen sky opened up to release its frosty bounty of earth-bound flakes.

Shoes are for babies

I found myself making all sorts of excuses to go to rooms in the building with a window and watch as the heavenly crystals fell to the ground. I even went outside a few times to take some photos of the snow-dusted surroundings.

Sure I’ve seen snow on the ground before in Washington and California, but I’ve never really seen it fall out of the sky like rain in slow motion. It's rather mesmerizing.

Around 2:30 work gave us the okay to head home. The drive back was kind of scary. There was ice all over and I saw at least 4 people slide off the road (I was able to stop and make sure that one elderly gentlemen was okay). But fortunately I made it back with only a minimal amount of skidding.

It’s continuing to pour down as I write this. It really is a beautiful sight and it brightened up my day. Thank God for snow and I’m so glad that we get to experience this before we leave our little tree house!

Day 23: Our Tree House

 

After a long weekend of recovery, I ventured out in the cold and decided to go to work this morning. I’m feeling quite a bit better and I think taking it really easy during the weekend helped make that possible.

We’re moving at the end of next month so it’s time to start going through things around the house and deciding whether to pack them or donate them to charity. Katie and I are really going to miss our little town home and some of the memories that we've made here. We have been truly blessed that God provided us with such a great little place to spend our first couple years of marriage.

I love having a fireplace

I thought it was cool when we first started bringing our separate things into the house. It was amazing to see how well they all went together. It was a great visual representation of two separate lives and accumulated items being joined together as one cohesive new family. Katie and I both have a pretty similar sense of style too and we didn't really clash about how to arrange things. Well.....except for maybe when I tried to put giant framed photos of animals and a miniature scale replica of The City of Gondor in the bathrooms. When using the downstairs bathroom we still sometimes refer to it as “going to Gondor.”

The view from our porch

One thing that I've learned about Katie is that she loves to make things very cozy. She is a professional and it has inevitably rubbed off on me. We’ll have the fire glowing in the fireplace and candles strewn all around the house while music plays in the background. A steaming mug of tea or hot cocoa is always within arms reach and good books abound all throughout the house.

We love to share the coziness with other people too by having out-of-towners stay for the weekend or local friends come over for dinner and games.  

Even though we've made some really great memories, in this place above the lake and trees (we call it The Tree House), Katie and I will make wherever we go feel like home.

Day 22: The Dangers of Eating Guacamole

I would strongly urge that you never let guacamole find its delicious green way into your eyeball. Especially if it’s spicy and you have a minor allergic reaction to avocados that generally results in a tingling sensation accompanied by a slight swelling.

Why am I presenting you with this information? Because while I was eating salad last night the unthinkable happened, something impossible actually. Somehow as I was digging into it with my fork, a piece of lettuce launched a glob of the avocado paste in such a perfect angle that it bypassed my glasses and when directly into my cornea.

At first I just closed my eye and reflected upon what had just happened. What the heck was that? I looked down at my half empty plate and deduced that the only thing it could have been was the guacamole. So then my next thought was, if that was guacamole, then it should be burning right now.

I finally opened my eye and was suddenly assaulted by what could only be described as rivers of lava flooding into my eye hole. I could only imagine that my eye began to glow a fiery red as I rapidly blinked trying to get rid of the searing pain that was decimating my ocular sphere. The Eye of Sauron was deeply planted into my skull, shining a red beam of light as it scanned back and forth looking for nasty little hobbitses.

I blurted out what had happened to Katie as I leaped up from the table and like a mythical cyclops guided myself with my good eye to the kitchen sink. The cool water stung almost as much as the foreign paste as I let it rinse thoroughly.

For hours afterward my eye still stung and even this morning it is still a bit swollen. May this cautionary tale serve you well the next time you attempt the dangerous task of eating guacamole or any other Mexican food.

Day 21: Photo Chop Shop

Today has been strange to say the least. I finally got about 4 hours of good sleep last night and even slept in a little bit. Most of today has been kind of a blur though. Katie made us an amazing breakfast and coffee. Cheese and avocado toast bites with eggs and bacon. But then I took NyQuil and got on a crazy Photoshop kick. I started photoshopping everything and everybody. It was the only thing I could focus on and Katie had to break me from it after about 7 hours.

I may have destroyed some relationships and created new ones with my digitally altered monstrosities. Here are a few.

Day 20: Dead Weight

My hair is a sea of belligerent tendrils springing forth from my skull like thoughts escaping a meat grinder. My nails protrude like broken tree bark from my stone-like ice cracked fingers. Frost clings to my beard like moss to a wizened tree.

The axe at my side can cleave through men as a ship cuts through water. My eyes glow faintly, like the coals of a dying campfire. Wispy smoke trails from my mouth as breath escapes my body and is swallowed by the star strewn air.

As the coals of the others are shrouded by fleshy lids, I tread back and forth under the night sky. Ever guarding our longboat, so that we may be carried away on her once again. Sleep beckons and pleads to me, but my axe is nothing more than dead weight in the battle I must fight.

Day 19: Under the Weather

I've been feeling a bit under the weather today. Have you ever wondered where that phrase came from? After coming home early from work in a daze brought on by sickness I thought about that, among other strange things. After doing some research, I found that most people agree that it was originally a nautical phrase. Whenever sailors were taken by seasickness, they would be sent down under the deck and away from the weather to recover. Under the weather. Go for it Flula.

So what did I do with my time since coming home early from work? I was Batman for a while and fought against Bane and the Joker’s henchmen, which coincidentally turned out to be very loud (and vulgar) British children. The online component to Batman: Arkham Origins is quite compelling though. 

I got into the open beta for Blizzard’s Hearthstone, which is brilliant by the way (like all Blizzard games). Played that for a while. When it comes out for IOS devices I will never get anything done again. I kind of half watched half listened to several nature documentaries available on Netflix. I also laid down on the couch with my iPod and caught up on my podcasts.

Nowadays there are so many things to help us rest up and pass the time while we are sick.

Day 18: The Chill

 
A cold air blows through the naked trees, whispering about the storm to come. Silhouetted birds of all shapes and sizes sway slowly back and forth on branches as the wind sighs past them. They make no movements of their own, standing like frozen time-forgotten sentinels overlooking a winter ravaged landscape.

A gentle fog skips across the lake, untouched by the dark cold waters below. In a sudden outburst of air, the last leaf of fall is anxiously torn away from its dormant parent and sent spiraling towards its fallen brethren. They await to be buried in an icy tomb of snow. 

Day 17: Of Muppets and Such

Katie told me something before I left for work this morning that I haven’t been able to vanquish from my mind.

She said, “While you’re at work, if you get frustrated, just imagine everyone as Muppets”.

I don’t think she had any idea what a strange and wonderful impact these last few words would have on my day. No, I didn't get frustrated, but I still saw them. I can confirm that they are everywhere. They’re driving in cars, pumping gas, serving you at the store. And yes, they’re especially at work. With lab coats and beards and everything.

We've been watching a lot of 30 Rock lately. Maybe too much. There are some things that you cannot un-see.

In other news, while I was sitting down having lunch today something hit me. No, literally. Something actually hit me. It was a little white speck that melted as soon as it had settled on my skin. That’s right, snow. The first snow that I've seen this year. That’s something that I certainly love about living farther north of the equator.

Also, I don’t know if you can tell or not, but I had a bit too much coffee today. I was pretty tired when I woke up this morning, so I attempted to offset that with the magical roasted beans. However, the scales have clearly been tipped in caffeine’s favor.

Day 16: Creative Outlets

Something that I've really enjoyed about the 100 word a day challenge is the opportunity to do something creative on a daily basis. For several years I did a photo of the day, but since moving to Georgia that has passed on. I became so busy with work and all of all the other things that life inevitably throws at you, that it just teetered off. It wasn't a conscious thing, it just happened in its own timing. I think it had run its course and fulfilled its intention.   

For quite some time I forgot how important it was to have an outlet for creativity. Sure, I still painted and did photography occasionally. But it wasn't on a daily basis. I have since come to realize how important it is to do something creative every day.

Right now I have two major projects that I work on daily. This blog, and the Mr. Tea chronicles (if you don’t know what I’m talking about check out my instagram feed). Of course there are many other creative after-work ventures that I partake in, but those two happen every day regardless.

My job is not one that allows for creativity. In fact, it is the opposite of creative. I deal with cold hard facts, numbers, and lab results. But I NEED to create something. It’s an integral part of me that affects my well being and attitude. I have found myself during the day thinking about things to write, or things to do with Mr. Tea. It has given me something to look forward to during the 40+ hour week that I'm at work. It serves as a mental break and a time to reflect.

I would urge anyone reading this right now to find your creative outlet and channel your energy into it consistently. You’ll thank yourself.

Day 15: Imprisonment

The dark, dank crevices of the stone dungeon echoed with the sounds of breathing, whispering, and murmuring. The stale air whistled past the inhabitants, signaling that the solid oak door had swung open.

Hard, deliberate footsteps echoed through the stone maze as keys jingled around a ring with each pounding. Lantern light brushed against the walls and the cells, revealing stone that hadn't been touched in years. The prisoners leaned as close as they could to bars, attempting to soak in the only source of light in their dark-drenched world.

The lamp-bearer halted in front of a small cell. A tiny form could be seen partially shrouded in the vertically striped shadows of bars. He stood up from the corner with a dirty arm raised, shielding his face from the only light that had caressed his skin in years.

The deafening sound of a key being inserted in a lock echoed throughout the maze, making the young captive lurch with surprise.

“You are free now” a deep and unfeeling voice boomed. “The master was notified that he began writing again. Well…..don’t just stand there covering yer face like a ghoul, get up and follow me.”

The boy obediently followed the gruff figure through the stone labyrinth. Finally they came to the doorway where the boy had first crossed into this hole several years ago. He was utterly blinded by the light once the door was opened and he walked, sightless, behind the wide figure. The large man abruptly stopped and the boy ran into him.

“Here he is.” The gruff voice bellowed.

“Ah. Good.” The new voice was kinder, calmer, and aged. A voice that the boy recognized from when he first was taken from his home and placed here.

The boy’s eyes were still blinded from the light. He reached around to feel where he was, but was unable to grasp anything within his reach.

“Peter,” The calm voice said. “Your author has started writing again. It was last night after a particular experience that invigorated his creativity.”

“So….I’m free now?” He said slowly and cautiously. “I mean, I can go back home?”

“Once you’re being written we cannot keep you here any longer. However, as you remember, if he stops writing and does not finish the story you must return to this place. For this is the dungeon of abandoned characters.”

As J.M. Barrie picked up his pen to begin to write, he felt a significant sense of relief after his long hiatus. He was awash with a sense of purposefulness and feeling of urgency to finish that he hadn't felt before.

Day 14: Hunting

The sun disappears behind the wispy early-morning clouds, diminishing its vibrant rays from spreading across the rain soaked salt marsh. The splash of a fish is heard as it’s disturbed by crunching feet on the white gravel. We stop short as my dad notices a group of white ibis and motions for us to stop. Crouching, we move slowly to the edge of the water with cameras at the ready. We are focused and unmoving, blending in with the still environment. As we begin to zoom and frame our shots the sun bursts from behind the cloud, once again spreading its light across the water-swept environment. Great lighting. A gentle, plop plop plop can be heard as the ibis hunt their tiny fish prey. Plop plop plop, snap snap snap as we take our shots.

Satisfied with the amount and quality of the photos taken, we move on down the trail. The gentle sound of water is the only thing to be heard besides the purposeful trudging of our feet. A slight breeze brushes against the marsh grass as it crosses over the water and swiftly past us. We hear a rustling and splashing sound. A great-blue heron with a wingspan of 4 ½ feet flies over us, dripping water, as we attempt to ready ourselves to take a shot. Alas, the heron is too swift. We lower our cameras and let the straps around our necks take the burden as we watch the majestic creature travel off towards the cloud-stripped sun.

Dad and I love coming out here together. Sometimes we don’t even see anything or take many photographs, but we still have a great time talking and spending time with each other. It’s quiet, there are no distractions and you can you just have time to reflect upon things. I guess this is why people like to go hunting. Instead of shooting a gun though, dad I and hunt our prey with cameras.

Day 13: Snooze

 

I’m ashamed to admit it. I really am. But I hit the snooze button every morning. Not once. Not twice. Sometimes it’s up to five or six times. There have even been a few mornings when I've hit the snooze so many times that when I actually got out of bed, I had five minutes to get ready for work. FIVE minutes!

I never used to take advantage of the snooze button, but in the last year or so it has been controlling my mornings. I think it’s because about a year ago I moved my alarm (iPhone) over to my nightstand. It’s just too convenient. Before, I had to get up and out of bed to decided whether or not I was going to hit the snooze (and I usually didn't).

So on Monday, when I have to go back to work, I am officially going to move my alarm clock far enough away that I have to get up to turn it off.

I hope this will help because, I like getting up early. I really do and I always have. It’s nice having a cup of tea, sitting down to have some quiet time, breakfast, and catching up on the news. I haven’t done that in a very long time because of that snooze button.

Day 12: Short but Swedish

Do you ever get a craving for IKEA meatballs? Well I do. I’m sitting here at my desk having lunch and that is all I can think about. Maybe it’s because it’s the food of my people.

If you’ve ever ventured into the Swedish maze of furniture, then you’ve probably had a plate of the gravy slathered meat spheres accompanied by mashed potatoes. If you want to do it right, you have to have a cup of lingonberry juice to go along with it.

They sell the frozen meatballs, mashed potatoes, and the gravy mix near where you check out at the store. Next time I make a trip there, I might need to pick some up for days like this. Because after getting the notion of IKEA meatballs in my head, this buffalo chicken soup just isn’t quite cutting it for me.

Day 11: Bang Bang

I’m sitting in my house trying to focus on writing something on my computer. The roof is covered with workers who are shouting as they use ropes and pulleys. Bang, bang BANG BANG BANG! The sound inside is mind-shatteringly loud and consistent as they pound away with relentless force. It makes my heart beat faster as if it’s trying to match the incessant tempo.

I think about the reason why they’re replacing the roof. It’s because of the leak that has reared its ugly head every time we get any significant amount of rain. It's been raining a lot lately. I think about the rotten wood that they’re removing and how damp and loose it must be. I hear a crashing sound as the worker presses his weight upon it. He goes through the roof, into the attic and comes careening down through the drywall in the ceiling. Bang, bang, BANG, bang, BANG, BANG! Chunks of drywall, insulation, and nails cover the carpet.

The person operating the crane spills his coffee and as he’s reaching down to grab the empty cup, he accidentally puts his full weight on the lever. Bang, bang, BANG. The load of shingles that he’s carrying swing out of control and into the front window; like an explosion it sends glass and wood particles flying everywhere. Bang, bang, BANG.

One unfortunate roofer loses his footing and I hear him slide down the roof and then watch as his body flies past the window as he grasps desperately for the rope. Bang, bang, bang bang, BANG. Another worker rushing to help him trips on a loose shingle and falls crashing on the deck and into the ceramic pots containing herbs. Bang, BANG, BANG!

A giant dump truck driving in the circle with a full load doesn’t see my car parked to the side and smashes into it as he’s making a turn. The side is caved in completely and the glass is shattered and blown out. The horn continually blows from the crumpled metal mess that used to be my car. Bang, bang, BANG, BANG BANG BANG!  

My brain can be such a jerk to me sometimes. After coming home to find the roof being replaced (and the neighborhood looking like a war-zone), all of these scenarios and more kept playing through my head over and over as I sat trying to write.

Day 10: Missing the Beach

I love the mountains and cool weather here in Georgia, but many days I find myself thinking about the beach. It isn't always a specific beach, but just beaches in general.

Here are just a few things that come to my mind when I start daydreaming about the beach.

I think about the shell-covered beaches of San Fernandina and the windchime-like sound that the empty husks make as they are struck by the pounding salt water. The sounds of laughter as vacationers play in the water. Dolphin fins catching the light off in the distance as they weave in and out of the water.

I miss the southern California beach where giant waves crash on treacherous rocks that jut out from the swell. Surfers in wet suits are framed by the sheer saltwater-carved cliffs. The far off drone of the Beach Boys is caught on the wind as it’s blown from a nearby party.

The never ending summer beaches of Brazil come to mind, where rain forest covered mountains meet tropical sandy waters. Iguanas bask in the sun alongside the tanned bodies of Brazilian beach goers. Palm trees sway in the cool breeze and the smell of seasoned meat roasting over a fire is carried upon it.  I miss the cold and foggy pebble-covered beaches of England. The smell of freshly made fish and chips wafting around in the chill air. Pale gentlemen in their ivy caps slowly walking along the shore, searching for things washed upon the pebble-strewn landing.

I consider the chilly beaches of the Pacific Northwest. Clams spurting water in the air, seals barking, the spray of a distant orca pod on the horizon. Clusters of islands off the coast covered in evergreen trees and rocks. Crystal clear tide pools trapping unforeseen amounts of alien life in their cold prisons. Minuscule crabs scuttling under rocks as they sense the danger of a passing gull. Most of all I miss my own beach; Cocoa Beach. The soft sand, the smell of fresh salty air, and the pier looming in the distance. Planes buffeted by the wind, towing banners as they fly above. A massive cruise ship blows its foghorn as it embarks from Cape Canaveral in search of ocean adventure. A distant rumble of fighter jets as they protect the base may be mistaken for an afternoon thunderstorm. Old men flying kites, children building sand castles, and sea turtles snacking on the green algae growing on the jetty.  

That’s my beach.

Day 9: Moving Art

The other day I was browsing Netflix and came across something that I am now completely obsessed with. I’m sure it was recommended to me by Netflix because of my love for documentaries; particularly nature documentaries. It’s a four part series called Moving Art by director Louie Schwartzberg. It focuses on the following subjects: Forest, Ocean, Flowers, and Desert.

What Schwartzberg has created is truly breath- taking. Every single shot is magnificently composed in such a beautiful and powerful way. The locations on display are so rich and vibrant that you’ll just want to travel there while you're watching it. One of my favorite things about the series is the fact that there is no voice-over. Instead, music and the sounds of nature fill the audio track allowing the viewer to sit back and watch without the interruption of a narrator spouting facts. It's very refreshing.
 

The music pairs so well with the images that one could mistakenly assume that they were created in tandem. One that particularly stands out for me is the talented Ludovico Einaudi’s piece "White Clouds", that accompanies the last part of Forest. All I could do the first time I watched it was sit in front of the TV (as close as possible) and soak it in. 

Desert features some great Indian tribal music and wonderfully captures several locations in Moab, Utah (where I have had the pleasure of visiting). In fact, I was surprised to see several shots of the 140 ft arch that I repelled off of during my time there.

If you enjoy nature films and orchestral music, then I would highly recommend that you check the Moving Art series out. I have had it playing in the background at my house for hours on end and I haven't tired of it yet.

Also check out the official site:
http://movingart.com