here's life

I have too much stuff.  My dining room is piled with the excess, so much so that I can't actually get to my stuff without digging through it all.  There are boards and computer parts, a bike, two large beanbag chairs, a dresser, 1.5 vacuums, an exercise mat, and a nearly complete table I have been working on since before Thanksgiving. Most of this physical baggage I either got really cheap or free, so why not have it?  Because materialism is not the spending of too much money, but being too attached to stuff.  But really, most of what I have are materials to be used in some yet-to-be-determined cacophony, which will probably end up in my living room. Hopeful this stuff will serve it's purpose by inspiring me to modify it into something nifty, so having access to lots of random, possibly useless items is the key. So, maybe it is ok, since I don't just have stuff for stuff's sake, but because it (I suppose) "makes me a better person".

Then there is the stuff that I have because it is cool, but actually cost me money. Like two (2) wireless routers (computer network items), that while they were interesting to set up, really I only use one. Or my frequent trips to places usually +8hr. away. And I dump in the gas and go. And then there is the surplus store, which I visit everytime it is open, and usually buy something, whether I need it or not. I have two 19"+ monitors sitting here beside my desk, mostly because they needed buying and will come in handy someday. Toward the end of March I am going to Alaska for a a wedding or something. Every couple weeks I go buy a bunch of tasty food, when I could buy cheaper, possiblly more healthy food. How should I decide what to spend money on, and what to not? Should I buy a car if my current one still works? How can I buy unnecessary things when there are people without food in other countries whom I could help with that money? When people I know (and don't) are headed off to the mission field (or jungle) and need finances to do so?

Today I played Ultimate Frisbee with some people from church.  Aaron, a guy from work, went with me. We had a good time, and I didn't get many pieces of vegetable keratin embedded in my skin. The ground we were playing on seemed to have less sand burrs than some other times we have played.  But, after so much running and turning, I am sore.  I need to stretch out and go to bed.

Yesterday at work I had a pretty good day.  I made some good progress, found some stuff out, and stayed on task and got stuff done.
Today was a little different.  Most of the afternoon I wanted to hit something, anything. I guess I was focusing on the frustrations, and the "why can't I just...." and getting annoyed that things wouldn't work, when it was obvious (now) how to make things so they would.  Just the little things, like spending a couple minutes and dozens of clicks transferring an address from Outlook to Messenger, so I can tell when a guy I need to get up with is in. I figured that they would work together pretty well, but noooo! they carefully use different levels of abstraction and inaccessibility on the addresses.
I think my problem is that I am looking at problems and inconsistencies, not as challenges to be overcome, but as frustrations and attacks on my understanding of reality.  I have been writing down problems I see and sometimes solutions to them, and so now I have some little note cards on my desk that don't do anything to actually make things work more smoothly, but they do help me remember what should be fixed, should I get the chance. Because I know best.  Yeah, right. Most of my solutions include some form of "shoot this donkey and get another different donkey".

This weekend was a lot of fun, plus it was a bit longer than most. Friday after work, I drove to Iowa. Much of my path through MO was hindered by snow, but I got through that and went on to Cedar Rapids.
The next morning, we picked up Bolt at the airport, and came back and pulled out some ancient, but powerful (still) computers and got them working with some special monitors I had brought with me--the Surplus Store rocks!
In the evening some other LU folk came by and so we talked and had a good time, including some food. Sunday we went to church, watched as aduma and Sam set up equipment, and in Sunday school Bolt talked about his past and future work with Wycliffe. After church I helped coil up sound cables, in a very specific way. Fortunatley I had gained this specific skill doing construction. We went to a pizza place with a large group from the church. After a fun and enlightening time, we went back and I packed up my stuff, and was about to leave, when I decided not to drive back until monday, so we sat around and Bolt's upcoming trip to PNG was discussed. (read more at Bolt's blog.
We also decided that I should get an RC airplane, which seems like a reasonable thing to do. So, I am going over to Aaron's apartment this evening, and picking his brain about how to build one, or where to buy one. We'll see what happens.
Eventually the trip had to come to an end, but not before seeing Bolt off at the airport, And a snowless, but still long trip back to Wichita.

And not just fish. Here is a nest hanging that is made of fishing line, expertly woven together with pieces of grass to form...a deathtrap for it's constructor. I don't know when in the nesting cycle this tragedy occurred, but that is one less bird for you to listen to, identify, or await the return of next year. Fishing line does not break down very fast. So, if you enjoy the art of luring fish to their doom with fresh and wriggling worms, please remember to dispose of your line responsibly. Loop old line around your hand so you can easily cut it into short sections, and then burn it or place it in the garbage. Try more bird friendly methods, such as spear fishing, or just grabbing the fish with your hands.

Using a proprietary technique known as UnSteadyCam, I have partially obscured the barely recognizable remains to spare children the trauma of a descicated bird, strangled in the tangling fringe of it's own nest

Back when I was in College, I realized that it was socially uncool to run from place to place. Just wasn't dignified enough. But I thought that social rules were for the birds, and so if I wanted to get somewhere quickly, I would run. Now, being a decent guy, I would try not to run in crowded hallways, or where people have to get out of my way. I broke the social rules, and replaced them with limitations that were both practical and not harmful to others.
But it annoys me when others break the rules. Like there was a guy in some Sunday school class, that made me cringe every time he spoke, because he didn't keep some unwritten and probably undefined set of rules. What do you do when others don't follow what seems proper?
Here's an illustration from our favorite horror flick:
Two acquaintances are finishing lunch, and the first one says: "Hey, you gonna eat your tots?" The second one shakes his head, and so the first one picks up the tater-tots and puts them in his pants pocket. Ok, stop. It is ok to take things that are going to waste, if no one objects. Now, scavenging food probably won't make you popular with higher lifeforms, but it doesn't inconvenience others. Putting food in your pocket is really uncouth and gross, but hey, it is your pocket. Ok, start the film again...We are in the class room, and he starts to take the food out of his pocket and eat it. Another guy says, "Gimme some of your tots!" The reply is "Get your own tots!" Stop. Ok, this guy wasn't really his friend, and probably had a good lunch, plus, he didn't ask very nicely. All of which make his request not very socially fitting. But let's rewind and watch it again: Tot transferred to mouth,,,crunch, mmmm... his friend says:"Hey, I'm pretty hungry...I really like tots...do you need to eat all of those?" Stop the tape. What should the guy with the tots do? How does he react to this pseudo request for some tots? It really isn't socially cool to try to get stuff from people when you really have only your need to offer them. But should he say, "I'm going to eat them myself, leave me alone." like a heartless miser, or does he act the nice guy and say "They and soft and have lint on them, but you can have some." What if this happens with his tots in history class, some paper from his binder in Math, and a pencil in geography? The poor guy doesn't have a bookbag, how is he supposed to carry stuff around?
Back in real life, I didn't really want to cook for myself, so I bummed meals off of other people. "Hey, are you going to supper tonight?" was my usually line. If they weren't, I would try to hint that I would like to borrow their meal card: "Can I borrow your card?" Usually they were pretty generous, and so I was fed like this for several months. That was pretty socially awkward, and somewhat inconvenient for my sponsors, but I did it anyway. Now that I am the guy with the tots, how can I be so uncaring as to refuse when others ask me to do things that make my life slightly different from what I would like? Do I want to become an uncaring Scrooge?
It seems that the social rules keep me from refusing most reasonable requests from those who disregard the social rules that dictate how often you can make requests. Now if they replace those rules with concern about limiting their impact and dependence on others, it would be different. But I, who have so many resources, why should I just arbitrarilly refuse to help out sometimes? I should at least have an excuse better than, "I'm going to be busy painting my cat."
But the big issue is that refusing to spend 15 mins. here and there looks really bad on the resume of my supposed life of service.

,,,I went around my apartment complex last night, checking out "bargain bins". I found some ceiling fans in various conditions and unverified operational status. But then I found a box with some unassembled piece of furniture, so I brought it back as well.
This evening I had time to find out what it was. As I took out the pieces, I guessed that it was a crib -- and was trying to think of someone who could use it -- but then I looked at the pictures and labels and it appears that someone got a table and Baker's Rack for Christmas, but only wanted the table and chairs. They even left me the hardware (with an allen wrench!). Since I have a better scanner than camera, and due to mass production, they all look the same, so I used the picture off the box.

This evening I went to a bible study. We were talking about Jesus's response to Lazarus's sickness, and death and why He did what He did. As we read through the passages, where they tell Jesus that Lazarus is sick, and all that follows, I was entertained by a song my dad wrote that describes the whole sequence with much musical melodrama. I think it could have helped shed some light on the feelings behind what the people say. For example, we talked about Thomas's "Let us go and die also" and it was said that he was saying, "Jesus is going up to Judea where He will be killed, let's stick with Him to the end!" The song, however, shows Thomas the doubting Eeyore responding to Jesus:

"Lazarus is Dead!
"And I tell you plainly,
"But that the glory of God might be shown,
"Come, let your faith grow in you!"
"Come, let us go and die too"

We also talked about Jesus weeping, and the guy who was teaching it stressed that Jesus wasn't weeping because Lazarus was dead -- He knew all along that it was going to be ok, and that he wasn't dead for long -- but rather He was weeping because of the pain that the others were feeling, as well as their sin and unbelief. I know that Jesus did not despair, and that He very much knew that Lazarus wasn't gone forever. But I also think that it is ok for Jesus to weep because Lazarus was dead, without it being out of unbelief and hopeless sorrow. Now, of course my family is not Jesus, and we do have doubt from time to time, but when we were at the gravesite the other week, in the rain, singing of Jesus's victory over death, even though nearly all of those there knew that we would see Grandma again, we still cried. Death is sad. Possibly it is that our faithlessness has tainted us, and so we link death with final, nevermore, perishment. But I don't think so. If our tears had been proportional to our unbelief, we would have just blown our noses loudly, and frowned. No, death is sad, even to the believer. It is a reminder that sin still has a physical effect. We know however, that Jesus has, is, and will ultimately, conquer[ed,ing] death, but until it is over we will feel the effects of death everyday. Those without hope see life and say "This is as good as it gets?" but those with hope know that no, this is not as good as it gets, whether life is good or bad, it always will get way better.
Not that anybody really needed to hear this, I just can't usually get words in edgewise at bible study, if I actually think of something good to say.

So, I look out my window this morning, and there are a couple inches of snow on the ground. I guess that is cool. We have a high of 46 today, so it may all be gone by nightfall.

This afternoon I drove around Wichita some more looking for the perfect sewing machine, i.e. one that was really cheap. I finally came upon a shop that looked deserted, but the lights welcomed me in out of the falling dusk. As I began to look around, a friendly voice greeted me from the back. The older man showed me the various models he had. I admitted my criterion, and he showed me a nice White, for $60, ten cheaper than any other I had found. After trying it, and looking at some others, I chose the White, paid the pleasant fellow and went on my way.
So, now I can add more fabric to my future furniture designs. It is more complex than any I have used before, but it also does simple stitches, which I will probably use more often, at least until I understand more of the controls. It has pathways for two threads, but only one neddle, so I suspect that I need some more attachments in order to use some functions.

I'll call this picture "Essence of Sewing Machine" because it sure isn't a clear, definative diagraphic.

For some reason, I get paid to go home for nearly two weeks around Christmas. Not one to argue, I packed it back to Missouri, thinking that I would just wander around the woods, and just chill for a while. After two days of this, we kids were about to spend Sunday afternoon with some friends, and we found out that Grandma had left this life for a better one. Mom immediately caught a flight to DC, but we went ahead and spent the afternoon talking about building farm equipment and watching the destruction of soda bottles. If you fill a 20 oz. plastic bottle to 100 psi with a bicycle pump, and then shoot it with a pellet gun, it makes a very satisfying bang. And if you have a couple young boys doing this, the neighboring ditches get nicely de-trashed, as all the bottles are gathered for use as feedstock.

Monday I did some stuff fo my car, so now it seems to leak less water, and probably less oil. Then at 10pm, we got in the car, and drove for Delaware, arriving in time for supper the next day. With 4 drivers, and with non-drivers placed out of reach of each other, the trip was pretty good. Over the next two days we prepared for the funeral, the cousins hung out, and we ate a good bit.
Wednesday night we had the viewing. Talked to people whom I knew, people my parents knew, and others. The cousins had a hard time not playing with the candles. My aunt had artfully put together a series of pictures and captions that covered some highlights of Grandma's life. It was good to have a history like that, so people could just stand and watch it.

Thursday we set up the chairs and all for the service. There is nothing like a gang of cousins when something needs doing, especially when there is an Aunt-In-Charge to answer any questions.
I didn't have good clothes, so I borrowed some from my cousin. As people gathered for the Celebration of Life, rain clouds gathered in the sky.
When the service was begining, most of the family gathered around for the closing of the casket. Some of us took the oportunity to place letters and items in the box with the body that once housed our grandmother. It was interesting how complex coffins are these days, and as I fought back tears I wondered how I would like my casket designed. My uncle earlier had said he wanted just a pine crate, and to be buried in his jeans and a flannel shirt. I tend to favor such simplicity.
Half the grandsons wheeled the casket up to the front, with the other half dozen walking behind. After some singing and prayer, the grandaughters read exerpts from a psalm, and then the grandsons joined them to sing "Children of the Heavenly Father", one of Grandma's favorite hymns. The service went on, with various people telling about her life and impact she had on so many people, and various of us trying to keeps young cousins quiet.
After it was over, the grandsons wheeled the box out, and put it in the hearse, and then piled into a van for the short drive throught the rain to the graveside. It was chilly and windy as we lifted the casket and carried it to the grave. We prayed and sang as the undertakers lowered the coffin into the prepared hole, and then my oldest uncle began shoveling dirt over it. Soon others joined in, and as the cold rain fell, we took turns filling the hole, ending the chapter of our lives that included Grandma, but not ending her influence and legacy that she had left. And as we tried to sing and shoveled weeping in the rain, we knew that it was not the end, that we would see her again, "For Jesus has risen/and man shall not die."

Over the last several weeks I have traveled more than I usually do, of which I am thankful. Over Christmas break, my grandmother went to be with the Lord. More on this later; for now, here is a touching summary by my cousin. And here is a summary of my recent travels: