Ford - Fix or Repair Daily

 So, my truck has a shift lever like every other vehicle with an automatic transmission. You are supposed to use it to shift into gear and (especially) into Park. Mine even has a nifty little switch to put the transmission into overdrive that's pretty cool.

But what are you supposed to do when the thing breaks off in your hand when you shift (with your crippled arm, even)? I got on line and found out that people think you need to replace the entire shift lever - which requires removing the steering wheel and column. I couldn't believe that, so I went to the Ford dealer. They said this happens all the time and yes, you do have to replace the entire shift lever. Oh, and by the way, "we don't stock that item- you have to special order it". Here is my question. If this happens all the time, why don't you have one in stock? All of this comes after I just had to spend over $100.00 to replace a defective battery that was under warranty.  Maybe I will just start walking to work. I think I could have gotten there faster walking after the slow commute today anyway. Arggh!

Papa's Ghost Towns

Papa's Ghost Towns

By Heather Phillips Kearl

It's fitting that Papa should be like them so

He brings us here searching, year after year

With their yawning doorways and supporting beams,

the old houses preserve a peaceful silence

like a dream of smoothly ebbing streams

or dark shadows, moving forward

 The silence fills each room, so compressed

its dark wispy shapes pool on the peeling paper

 I am lost, but complete as the silence swallows me

surrounding me in its flurry of memories

The house knows all; it's always alert,

full of treasures, knowledge and respect

when on first glance it seemed so bare

 He spends every day, constructing new homes,

showy and grand, then hands them,

like a newborn child, to parents longing for such.

 Yet,

just now, as I stand amidst the broken glass,

splintered wood, and peaceful completion,

I understand why he's so much at home

Poem by my daughter

Photographs by Janene

Sometimes it seems that it takes a daughter's insight to be able to understand who I am.

Still Keeping a Promise

Remember last March? I wrote about keeping a promise to keep my office organized. Here it is a year later and this is my report . My office still looks fairly organized - I have a bunch more drawings in the plan files, but otherwise it looks pretty good. After a year, I can report that it has become a habit. There are a few days of uncontrolled chaos, but it is almost always cleaned up on Wednesdays and Fridays when the cleaning crew comes in.

The Joy of Being "BWAMPA"

There are just a few blessings that come from getting old. One of them is the joy of having grandkids. I remember how fascinated I was with my grandfathers, both of whom were pretty famous in my way of thinking. My Grandpa Morton could be seen on Saturday afternoons on a TV show called "Bold Journey" where he narrated some of his adventure movies. My Grandpa Phillips could be seen in the Salt Lake Tribune walking his dog around the block - on his unicycle, no less. We could also take the kids to the circus to see him and the rest of the Shriner Clowns entertaining the crowds between acts.

I will have to share some of those experiences later, but I love the voice messages I get from my grandkids. They cover everything from potty training to first encounters with the Tooth Fairy. Lately, some of my grandsons have taken an interest in rocks and minerals. We have retrieved boxes and boxes of rocks Janene and I have collected in our travels, but mostly during the time when we both studied Geology at the U and during the summer science classes that first brought us together. Bit by bit our rock collection is leaving our house and going down two generations to these little boys.

It is funny to think of myself as "BWAMPA". I still think of myself as the little fascinated grandson.

What to do? What to Say?

Well, Christmas presented (no pun intended) me with a dilemma. My sister gave me a nice wooden candle holder with a votive candle inside. I really liked the thing, especially the wording on the front, but I have sworn off real candles in the home after our almost catastrophic melt down a few years ago. (see A Cautionary Holiday Tale) I didn't want to disappoint my sister and just haul it off to DI. I didn't want to re-gift it either, since that would just possibly burn down someone else's home. So after a little thought, I found the perfect place for it on my drafting desk at work. It now holds all my stuff for marking plans and doing takeoffs. I can see it everyday and remember the thoughtfulness of a beloved sister.

Sorry, Sis. I did have to send the votive candle to the landfill.