A decade passes

It's almost the end of the decade. I don't like cliches but I'll say it anyway: Where did the last ten years go? The Aught decade has passed and for much of it, life was just happening for me.

But now as the Aught decade is nearly over, I realize that there were some great things that occurred to jar me out of having life just happen. Perhaps this decade helped to raise my consciousness in so many ways. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I want to write about some personal highlights of the Aughts.

I remember the much touted heralding of the beginning of the last decade. I didn't think that the world was going to end. As a matter of fact, I remember thinking that there would be some spectacular fireworks when January 1, 2000 rolled around. It was the new millennium. Sure enough, the fireworks from around the world were spectacular. And what's more, no computers crashed, the lights didn't go out, and Y2K seemed to fizzle out as life went on. (Now the Mayan 2012 end of days will be approaching and there will be more scares on the end of humanity. I suspect that things will end not with a bang but a whimper).

The past decade was one of adventures, personal discoveries, and sorrow. A lot has happened to me. And in some ways instead of feeling older, I feel as if time has moved backwards and that kid inside is seeing the world through new eyes. I believe that I am definitely happier than I was on January 1, 2000.

I don't much like the yearly list approach so here are some things that stand out for me about the Aughts.

• This was a decade of personal loss. Probably one of the saddest things that happened was my mother died. She had lived a long life and one well spent. I still think of her and my father daily. It was a decade of the loss of several of my beloved dogs and cats.
  
• This was the decade of great personal upheaval. I ran out of love, found it again, began a program of recovery and became aware of what I actually felt, what I was doing, and how to make restitution. I learned that control and expectations don't have happy outcomes.
  
• This was a decade when being a geek was okay. I started a blog, discovered a community of people who shared their lives, got a bunch of gadgets that were supposed to save time but actually took up time, and became aware of so much through technology.
• This was a decade of a shift in my work ethic. I became much more aware of how science for the sake of science isn't the answer but that having non-scientists understand what is happening in the environment would be far more important than preaching to the choir. I published quite a bit over the last decade but see that public outreach through popular media and face to face is going to be more important than ivory tower academics.
  
• This was a decade of discovering how to play again, to move outside of my comfort zone. I bought a sailboat which has brought me closer to the ocean than before. And the boat has spurred dreams of long voyages that may yet come.
  
• This was a decade of decisions: to wind down a long career in science; to stay in a marriage because of respect, honor and love; to trust in a God that I never knew before; to make new friends and move on from some old ones; to de-stress my life and abandon those things that were not filling me with joy; and to embrace those things that bring enlightenment.
  

So another decade goes by. Tempus fugit-- whether you’re having fun or not. I decided somewhere along the way that having experiences in life are more important than thinking about them. That action is needed.

Here’s to the hope of a new decade well lived. Who knows what the future holds? Hope is all I have. And I hope that we each will maneuver around any obstacles that lie in the road ahead.

For each of you, Happy New Year, and Happy New Decade--one day at a time.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Ferris Bueller.

Is this what retirement will be?

I have this week "off" from work. I'm not bored because I've been busy all day: reading blogs, eating left overs, playing with the dogs, downloading books to a Kindle (one of my Christmas presents), and will go to a meeting tonight.

I can see though that there is the tendency this week to not really be busy or to feel as if I have something to do. I can simply do what I feel like doing and that is something I'm not used to. And along with that feeling, a bit of dread is starting to creep in. My thoughts are: Four months and counting, four months before retirement, not very long until the routine will be done, endless days of doing just what I want (isn't that what I wanted?), endless days of ???

There is fear welling up that what I have known, the place that I have gone to every day, the job that I have done well for so long, will not be there any more. I've realized before with a start that most of my life has been spent at this job. And perhaps my ego has become enmeshed with it as well. Am I co-dependent on my job and feeling that without it I am useless?

I realize that it is time to move on. I know that in my heart, but my ego still feels like it has been hit. This was my choice, not a forced thing. And I know that in the long run, I will be grateful and my days will be full. At this moment though, I am wondering about the changes.

I have choices, quite a few of them. And that is the silver lining. I don't have to sit around. Thankfully, this program has placed firmly in my head that I do have control over what I do. I can get a part time job in the field, volunteer my time, go on a long voyage, write a book, travel, and do countless other things that I would like to do. Change offers an opportunity to adapt.

So after writing this down, I'm going back to searching for free or low cost books to download. I'm not sure how I like the electronic media for books, but with a little practice I'll probably get accustomed to that also. Enjoy your Tuesday.

Disrespect

We are still out on the boat. I haven't read most of your blog posts but will get around to each of you to comment. In the meantime, I hope that each of you is doing well.

Last night we talked about what a shame it is that one of the local AA groups may be asked to leave. It appears that the group has been standing outside the church talking loudly, using profanity, and leaving cigarette butts on the ground. One of the Al-Anon groups I attend also meets there which makes me wonder whether it's location is in jeopardy.

To me, this suggests that it pays off greatly to practice the principles in all our affairs. Disrespect does nothing to engender good relations with each other or the world at large. The traditions were born from experience. Breaking them is not indicative of recovery. The steps and traditions are self-enforcing. When they are not observed, the group is in danger of self-destructing.

This isn't a rant but an observation of concern. We respect and love both programs. I hope that others will do the same.

Recovery friends

The dinner on Christmas Day was great. There were twelve of us sharing food, laughs, and thanks together.

We had enough food for over 20 people so there are some yummy leftovers. From the comments of all who attended, it was a fun time. Even the in-laws had a great time! It turned out that one of the fellows attending was from the same state as my father-in- law. So there was a lot of bonding going on.

We are going to do this again next year. Although we were both exhausted, it was a good kind of tired. We both went to sleep with a lot of gratitude in our hearts.





After resting and doing pretty much nothing yesterday, we are out on the boat today. I am grateful for the beauty of this place, the friendship and love of family and friends, and the help that this program of recovery has given me.

Christmas Day

Images of Christmas Day. I hope that yours is a good one.

A few of my favorite things

Ed over at Living A Principled Life tapped me to write about five favorite things. I'm going to stick to things as in objects here, rather than feelings.

And to have to name just five...I have a lot of favorite things but here are my top ones that I am thinking about on this day.

• The estuaries and oceans have to top my list because they are a source of life, comfort, uncertainty, and great beauty. These are places where I find my peace, where my dreams lay, and where I test my fortitude.
  
• My sailboat which allows me to experience being on the water whenever I can slip away. It is like a tree house--I can go there and escape from the rest of the world.
  
• Dogs are such favorites because they are fascinating to watch, give unconditional love and make me smile regardless of how I feel.
  
• I have a great love for photography and art that tugs at my soul, makes my eyes tear with beauty, and expresses what words can't express
• This house is a favorite thing for me because it is roomy and filled with so many things that bring back memories through every stage of my life. The house has been a work of love for both of us.
  

So there are just a few things that come to mind today. I could go on to name many other favorites and when it comes to people, well...I have a few favorites that are near and dear to me. I'm thinking about them and all of you on this Christmas Eve. And in the spirit of the day, I'm posting a few photos of a few more favorite things on the day before Christmas. We are preparing for the buffet dinner tomorrow in which we open up the house to those in recovery who want some food and fellowship.

May your day be filled with joy.

The eve of eve

Today has been a day off from work. I took the dogs to the park for a couple of hours. They met up with some pals and checked their pee mail.

I like to watch the doggy interactions. Everyone ran and jumped and played fetch. There was no growling or bad behavior. I wish that people had the ability to get along like dogs do.

I just talked to a friend in AA who did a 12 step call. The drunk man was so shaky and dehydrated that they called for medical assistance so that he could receive fluids. Today, my friend Is taking the man to detox. I wonder what wife/mother/father/child/ is hoping for the miracle of recovery this Christmas.


I am thankful for having sober people in my life today. But I am thankful that their alcoholism was the reason that I sought help for my own troubles. I still have a long journey but can look behind me at the rough terrain I've covered and see how far I've come.

I'm going to post some photos over the next couple of days of Christmas things. I can feel the joy seeping in and I'm letting it. I hope that there is joy in your heart today.

Leaps and Boundaries

I have been told that I don't respect boundaries whether they are mine or another's. That may be true. I have had a tendency to become enmeshed in another person's life where I feel what they feel, do what they do. When that happens I lose myself which leaves me with weak or no boundaries.

By having weak boundaries, I would morph into being what someone else wanted me to be. This is really a form of dishonesty which prevents real intimacy. It's not possible to be intimate with a person who can't express feelings, wants, likes or dislikes, or who can't be honest about those feelings. I think that this behavior was a way by which I learned to survive.

I didn't know what a boundary was until Al-Anon. And once in Al-anon, I mistakenly thought setting a boundary was something I had to do to someone else. What I now understand is the only person I can really set a boundary with is myself.

For instance, I can't set a boundary in which I tell another what they can't say or do. I cannot tape their mouths shut or tie their hands. But I can learn to say no when I want to say no.

I didn't have "No" as a boundary for such a long time. It was difficult for me when I was younger to say no to those who asked something of me. I would either go along with what was wanted, lie about why I couldn't do it, or just avoid the issue altogether. None of these responses worked because I felt resentment, anger and guilt. Even if I did manage to convey a "no", it was always given with a long-winded attempt to soften the blow. I have since learned that "No" is a complete sentence.

Another problem I've had with boundaries is to not believe it when another told me "No". I would do what I could to convince them to change their mind, to do what I wanted them to do. That was what I would do with my parents as a child, and that childlike behavior carried through into adulthood.

That's why boundaries can be tricky. I have to look at my motive for setting one: am I doing it for my good, or to try to make someone else do something I think is good for them? Am I trying to change them or to punish them? I don't think these are good reasons to set boundaries.

I've found that my boundaries tend to be flexible. I don't like to establish a wall. I also don't want to constantly drop boundaries so that they are never in place. I read that a good boundary could be thought of as a being like a drawbridge that I can pull up when I need to do so.

These are some guidelines for setting boundaries:

1. Give up any expectations about the outcome

2. Clearly define consequences that don't disrupt my serenity.

3. Set boundaries and communicate them clearly.

4. Enforce boundaries consistently.

5. Set boundaries without regard for the relationship

And these are some of the healthy boundaries that I now strive to use :

Keep my Mouth Shut-- I don't need to engage in arguments with another.

Live One Day at a Time-- I don't want to project about the future or rehash the past over and over

Take Nobody's Inventory but My Own-- I don't need to browbeat another or try to convince them of my viewpoint. I just need to focus on my own behavior.

Focus on myself-- I pay attention to what I am thinking and feeling and reach out to others in the program when I am angry, lonely or tired.

I'm still far from being able to do all of these things consistently. But I have come to understand that having healthy boundaries is must better than not having any at all.

A weekend of stuff

It was not a great weekend here weather wise. Instead of snow, there was torrential rain. The storm drains downtown overflowed, streets were filled with 2 feet of water and fecal matter and toilet paper floated down the main shopping street.

I do live on a mile long dirt road (one of the redneck criteria, even though I don't have other credentials for redneckedness) and it was filled with deep gullies where the road bed had washed away. Sheet flow occurs across the road because of rain running off the fields and flowing into drainage ditches that can't hold all the water. Anyway, it was an adventure going and coming. Thank goodness for a pickup truck (OMG-another trademark of a redneck!).

Anyway, I went to the boat to check up on things there after the rain passed by. It was cold and windy. I put some weatherstripping around the foreward hatch, got a hot shower, and then went to an open AA meeting on Saturday evening. It was a God moment when a young teenager with a week of sobriety won the raffle with a Big Book and As Bill Sees It. I've heard that coincidence is just God's way of being anonymous. I like that idea.

On Sunday, the man who hired me for this job years ago died. He was a gentle man and a gentleman, traits that are not as prevalent today. He and I finished up a book together last year. I'm grateful to have been given the opportunity to work with him for these many years. He was active and still came into the office every day until the last couple of weeks. And he had plans for another book. It was a life well lived.

Today is the start of Christmas week. I'm at an emotional low today but realize that this too shall pass. Tonight is my home group meeting. I need a good dose of Al-Anon along with a shot of Step Three and a dash of Tradition 12. That's a powerful concoction.

Christmas redneck style

Rednecks aren't just confined to the South. But we do have an abundance of the "good ole boy" types around. So if you recognize this Christmas dinner, you might just have experienced a "Redneck Christmas":

You've ever had Christmas dinner on a Ping-Pong table.
Christmas dinner is squirrel and dumplings.
You've ever re-used a paper plate (all the time!!!)
If you have a complete set of salad bowls and they all say Cool Whip on the side.
If you've ever used your ironing board as a buffet table (who has an ironing board???)
On Christmas Day you have to decide which pet to eat.
Your turkey platter is an old hub cap.
Your best dishes have Dixie printed on them.
Your stuffing's secret ingredient comes from the bait shop.
Your only condiment on the dining room table is ketchup.
Side dishes include beef jerky and Moon Pies.
You have to go outside to get something out of the 'fridge.
The directions to your house include "turn off the paved road" (and that is true for us!!)
You consider pork and beans to be a gourmet food (aren't they???)
You have an Elvis Jell-o mold.
Your secret family recipe is illegal.
You serve Vienna Sausage as an appetizer.

An honestly wet day

It's a wet and blowy Friday here. The view outside my window shows white caps in the harbor and rain blowing sideways. It's one of those days that's just right for finding a cave and taking a nap.

I'm going down to the boat later to check up on things. I doubt if I'll go anywhere except to the marina because it's just too nasty out today. But if I spend the night on the boat, then there is a chance to get an early start in the morning and head upriver to more sheltered waters.

My friend and fellow bloggerGG over at G-Log asked me to write 7 honest things about myself. I did this a while back but will come up with a few others that I can add today:

1. I enjoy cooking and like trying new foods for others. If left alone though, I could subsist on soup, pizza, and chicken wings.

2. I would rather be around animals than with people. I am a loner at heart, yet I like companionship with those that I am closest to. I am an enigma.

3. I like writing but sometimes I read what others write and think that I could either be wittier, more erudite, more...something. And some days I just don't have much to say. That generally occurs when I feel particularly good.

4. I am an electronics and technical geek to a certain extent. I like trying to figure things out. I do better with machines than with people.

5. I don't like doing mundane and repetitive things. I am always looking for new adventures and something new to explore. Maybe that's why the career that I chose has been such a great one. I am always exploring something new.

6. I am put off by those who try to manipulate and control me, yet I have done my share of the same over the years. I am a conundrum as well as an enigma.

7. I have a reputation as being forthright and to the point, which is often viewed as intimidating. Much of that demeanor has softened since Al-Anon, yet when my back is against the wall, I'm not afraid to stand up for what I believe to be truth.

There you go. Have a peaceful Friday.

A different way to love

After I wrote the post yesterday and read the comments (thank you), I talked with an Al-Anon friend who was having a hard time. Both of us had slipped up by expecting something from another person who has nothing to give. We talked about how frustrating it is to want someone to be different from what they are. When I do that, I'm taking back my will, forgetting about my Higher Power, and making the person I want to change a poor substitute for God. In short, I am bargaining with reality, and it simply doesn't work.

Sometimes when I have those moments where I want to deny reality, I become so angry at the disease and at myself for being sucked into destructive behavior. I have to keep reality front and center. Sometimes, I do this by remembering the defects, the lies, the deceptions, the failed promises, the bad scenes. If I don't remember how the disease has hurt, then I have a tendency to think only about the good times and the special moments. I let my guard down and start to build a rosy picture. And then...wham!

Al-Anon teaches that I don't have to accept the unacceptable or tolerate the intolerable. I can work through my feelings, but I don't have to stay angry or filled with resentment. When I am in a mode of self-pity, I am thinking that the other person did something to me. They were at fault which is a lie that I tell myself.

So inevitably through what I've learned in this program, I shift my focus to forgiveness by realizing that each of us has character defects and are human. Real forgiveness has nothing to do with who is right or who is wrong. It has to do with getting rid of my own regret, self-pity, and inwardly directed anger. I see that the other person is not the source of my problems, rather it is my complicity and responses to what others do that has done me the most harm.

I can still keep in mind that alcoholism is a deadly snake that is in the room and can strike at any moment no matter that the person is sober. That keeps me present in reality. I am taking care of myself, minding my own business, and letting the other person live their life.

This has meant that I've had to learn a different way to love. And it involves more loving of myself and making a decision about how I interact with the other person. I have had to learn to detach with love which is one hard lesson to learn.

The committee at work

I have been rolling along feeling good, not F.I.N.E. but good. That is until yesterday afternoon when I started to obsess over something that happened over the weekend. I caught someone in a lie and even though the lie wasn't about anything significant, it sent me reeling back into a hurtful period of deception and secrets that happened over a month ago.

I have heard the joke in AA: "How can you tell an alcoholic is lying? His lips are moving." I don't find this joke funny. I don't find lying and secrets funny. And I find lack of trust to be not a stumbling block but a Mt. Everest that blocks the way in a relationship.

I used to think that if I explained the traumatic events of living in an alcoholic household and being in an alcoholic marriage, that people would shape up and give up their character defects for my benefit. I would make the people that I let treat me badly, that I let breach my boundaries, and that I let make me crazy into kind, caring, mature, and unselfish people. I would even practice having imaginary conversations with them, complete with their responses to some new slight that I had perceived.

In Al-Anon, I began to see that the responses that I get when I call a person on their shit isn't the one that I imagined, in fact it had no bearing at all sometimes on reality. Instead, I would generally get a response indicating that I was the one at fault, that lying and secrets didn't have to be explained to me, and that I was merely trying to control them by calling them on some behavior that was none of my business.

So yesterday when the committee in my head was talking loudly, I quietly gathered up my things, left the office, and went to my sailboat. As I walked along the dock, I stopped to talk to two fellows that I know. Both were cheerful and glad to see me. That helped to quiet the negativity running through my head. Then when I got to the boat, I pulled some lights out of the dock box and started stringing them on the boat. The snowflakes twinkled as the dusk came and the other lights that ran along the life lines made the boat seem happy. And right then, I had a talk with God and asked him to guide me into right thinking.

And just like that, the committee quieted down. The obsessing that I was doing over the character defect of another left me. And it was replaced with acceptance that people are not going to change because I want them to. The leopard will still have spots. I could then go to the meeting last night, enjoy the sharings, and go for fellowship afterward with a light heart.

I don't want to have Step One moments but am so glad when my belief in a power greater than myself can quiet the obsessive thinking and get me back on a path that is free of mountains of resentment.

Seeing hope

Last night I joined a group of people from work to host a dinner at Hope Lodge. For those of you who aren't familiar with Hope Lodge, the first was established in Charleston in 1970 by a Holocaust survivor and cancer patient who saw a similar facility while traveling in Australia and New Zealand. I couldn't help but think how it came together that a woman survived the Holocaust, became a doctor, and just "happened" to visit in far away countries from which an idea was formed to bring help and hope.

The concept was to provide a "home away from home" for those individuals and their families who are undergoing treatment for cancer. Nationwide, there are now more than 20 Hope Lodges which are part of a national patient service program run by the American Cancer Society. Last night, as we brought and prepared food for the residents and their caregivers, it was obvious what a Godsend this place is. Not only is it free of charge, but there is a great sense of comraderie and support amongst the patients and staff.

I met so many people who are filled with hope that they will survive. They knew each others' stories, encouraged each other, and were interested in socializing. I talked at length with a man being treated for prostate cancer. He wore a lapel pin that said "Cancer Sucks". He was funny and feisty. No doubt the Christmas decorations throughout the place contributed to the festive atmosphere. After dinner, the Renaissance Ensemble sang traditional English and French Christmas carols and after they sang their repertoire, the rest of us joined them for familiar carols.

Last night was a good reminder to me about how grateful I am to have my health and that there are others struggling with major illnesses that seem as devastating to them as alcoholism does to me. Sometimes I seem to focus so much on alcoholism that I tend to forget that pain and suffering comes in other forms.

Party time of year

"The alcoholic at certain times has no effective mental defense against the first drink. Except in a few rare cases, neither he nor any other human being can provide such a defense. His defense must come from a Higher Power. "

It's a partying time of year. The problem is that most of the parties are inundated with alcohol. It seems that socializing has to include alcohol as the main way of celebrating. I have no problem going to these, having a beer, and then stopping. But for my wife, the parties aren't appealing. I have to admit that once people start becoming sloppy, I cease to enjoy the party and take my leave.

She avoided the annual laboratory Christmas party this year because there is a lot of drinking and a lot of pressure from those who she used to drink with. She doesn't want to answer questions about why she isn't drinking. A good friend of mine who is a recovering alcoholic has a great response when asked to have a drink. He simply says: "I've had enough". And in his day, I suppose that was the truth!

We did go to a wine and cheese party on Friday night and took along some non-alcoholic sparkling cider. The couple who hosted know that C. doesn't drink. But I remember the first time that we went to a party there at Halloween and one of them said, "Oh that's right, you don't drink." Unfortunately, that kind of comment generally comes out being insensitive even though it isn't meant to be. I'm thankful though that no one was pushing alcohol which can happen. I know that at one time, I just didn't get it either. I would actually say to someone, "Oh come on, have just a little wine." What an idiot I was!

So on Friday when the conversation inevitably turned to the excitement of drinking and people were starting to get bleary eyed, we said our polite good byes. C. said that she doesn't feel the need to drink but that she no longer wants to be around people who are drunk. We both enjoy socializing and have no desire to isolate. I'm glad that we can have fun during the holidays but can also make a decision that once the socializing becomes an excuse to get drunk, neither of us want to hang around for that.

You just have dirty thoughts

I thought that I would infuse a bit of bawdiness into your Saturday. So here are a few things that sound dirty about Christmas dinner but aren't:

"Just spread the legs open and stuff it in."

"How many are coming?"

"Just lay back and take it easy I'll do the rest."

"Are you ready for seconds yet?"

"I didn't expect everyone to come at once!"

"That's the biggest one I've ever seen!"

"Use a nice smooth stroke when you whip it."

"How long will it take after you stick it in?"

"How long do I beat it before it's ready?"

"Are you going to come again next time?"

"It's a little dry. Do you still want to eat it?"

"Just wait your turn. You'll get some!"

"Don't play with your meat!"

"Do you think you'll be able to handle all these people at once?"

"You still have a little bit on your chin."

"You'll know it's ready when it pops up."

"Wow, I didn't think I could handle all of that!"

"Just reach in and grab the giblets."

"Whew...that's one terrific spread!"

"I am in the mood for a little dark meat."

"Tying the legs together will keep the inside moist."

"Talk about a HUGE breast!"

"And he forces his way into the end zone!"

"She's 5000 pounds fully inflated and it takes 15 men to hold her
down."

"It's cool whip time!"

"If I don't unbutton my pants, I am going to burst!"

"It must be broken 'cause when I push on the tip, nothing squirts out."

Third Step Prayer

As part of the third step, I ask sponsees to develop a prayer. I wanted to provide this one that I found particularly profound. It is from S.G.

God, Goddess, Universe, Power, Divine Energy,
Take me home
..... to Myself, My Soul, My Heart.
Help me to allow the Power that I am to emerge.
May by beauty take me over....
Like water
Eroding away the jagged edges
that keep me locked in obsession
of some him or her that I confuse will heal my heartache
......my search for connectedness.

May I not deny my quest for union,
but instead see all I have as
the opportunity to be connected
to if I choose.
Help me to know this connection can
be not just enough but it can
exceed my expectations and leave me
with a sense of solidity within
Myself and Everything
that will make
what I am seeking undesirable.

May disappointment not rule me. May I transform
disappointment and bring what I truly seek to
the table wherever I do and am.

Help me to use creativity to experience Us in union......
for you are within me and all around me
and I am of you.
I now and will surrender in your presence and
listen to the Power of our truth;
As I trust our guidance as the wholeness we make in Unity.
Blessed Be.

Thinking of my dad on his birthday

Today is my father's birthday. I thought that I would share some of my memories of him on this day of his birth.

My father enjoyed his birthday. When I was a kid, my mother and I would surprise him with presents and a home made card. I wanted to make sure that I had a nice present for him. I can remember a set of cuff links that we bought. He wore them many times and they seemed to accent his starched white shirt. I still have those cuff links as well as many other things that belonged to my dad.

After I was out of the home and married, my wife and I would take him presents. He was always appreciative of our thinking of him. I could tell that he still had that little bit of child within him on this day.

He was born in the big farm house on a snowy morning in Virginia. I talked to a very elderly lady many years ago who remembered how my father's elder sister ran across the fields to tell the neighbors of his birth. It was a happy occasion that a son was born. After he died, it gave me a lot of pleasure to hear about his birth from someone who had been there and seen him when he was a baby. It made him seem alive in their memory of him.

My father would share a lot of stories about growing up on the farm. He told me about getting up on cold mornings and running down the stairs to stand in front of the fire in the dining room to get dressed. He told me about mornings that he and his father would ride on horseback for several miles to meet up with other riders for fox hunting. He told me about hog killing time and curing of meat in the smoke house.

One of the more poignant things that he told me was that for Christmas there would be candy and an orange or apple in his stocking. This would make me cry because of guilt that I got so much. I think now that my father might have been doing a bit of manipulating as his parents weren't poor. Maybe it was his way of making me feel grateful for those things that I received.

He lived in another time. He never forgot the community though and would go to visit old neighbors whenever he could. At Christmas, he would take gifts to those old timers that lived near his birthplace. He enjoyed sitting around a fire and talking to them about the old times. I believe that he was a romantic at heart.

The farm was sold and the old farmhouse fell into disrepair. At least I have photos of it. And I did an oil painting of it when I was a teenager. I remember going in the farm house and seeing my father's room upstairs. The house was empty then, with only the echoes from his past still present. I always thought that was sad and developed a feeling at that time that houses have souls too. I still believe that.

Many of the people that he grew up with have died. All of his siblings are dead. One died from alcoholism. I don't know what happened along the way in life for her or my father to have decided that drinking was a source of solace. It's a question that everyone asks who has an alcoholic relative. How did the child born in innocence become tainted by life?

Anyway, I guess all this rambling is to tell you that I still miss my dad. I would like for him to know that I'm thinking about him on his birthday. I like to think that his spirit lives on in me.

A new tradition

After I posted yesterday about the wish to have a house full of recovery people and to have them enjoy a Christmas buffet, I shared about it at the meeting last night. And a woman sitting next to me said that she would be glad to come when I decided to do that. It made me realize that this idea may not have to be put off for the future, but that we could begin a new tradition this year.

So this morning my wife and I talked it over and agreed that it was something that we wanted to do. I put together a flyer that will be available at three meetings we attend inviting those who are without someone to share the spirit of the Season with us on Christmas Day.

This is a big decision for us because 1) my wife's parents are intolerant of political and socioeconomic views that differ from theirs and 2) neither know that we are involved in recovery programs. So I highlighted a reminder of Tradition 12 on the flyer. I believe that anonymity is important for this day and that to be mindful of principles above personalities is a good thing to consider as well.

Thinking about a house filled with people has lifted my spirits. I am happy that we can do something for others that captures the true meaning of the season.

Tuesday's thoughts

I woke up with a headache today that made me feel nauseous. I wasn't even tempted to have a fresh baked oatmeal raisin cookie. Instead, I took some sinus medication and went back to bed.

I had a meeting yesterday at work that made me wonder about leadership, authority, small minds and narrow vision. It's a chicken or the egg sort of thing---did the small minds and narrow vision come as a result of leadership and authority or is it the other way around?

I can't think of anything that I want or need for Christmas. I would just settle for having a house full of people in recovery that have no family nearby and treating them to a great homemade Christmas dinner. Instead, it will be my in-laws and us. It's times like these that I wish for a big family and children running around.

Tonight is the 20th anniversary of a meeting I regularly attend. There's going to be some festive food. Several of us have been going for ice cream after the meeting, and it's been fun. However, last week, a fellow I know pontificated the entire time about how to work the program of Al-Anon. I chose to join in a conversation about rebuilding an old Mustang. I don't enjoy pontification.

The fall colors are at their best right now in this section of the coast. So far there hasn't been any frost and most of the summer flowers are still doing well. The fall garden is going to yield some collards, kale, and cabbage. Hopefully the collards will be ready by New Year since they are a New Year's Day tradition.

We decided to put up all the decorations again this year because the squirrels, deer, foxes, opossums, and rabbits enjoy them. After all these years, we finally got everything organized into boxes labeled by room. We used to pull a "whatchamacallit" out of the box and wonder where it went.

I'm no longer in search of aluminum Christmas trees since I now have 2 little ones and one large one from childhood that goes on the library table. It even has the color wheel that I thought was so dorky as a kid. Now I think that it's pretty cool.

Since I've been writing this, my headache has gotten better so I'm going to take a shower, get dressed, and head into work. I am glad that writing a few thoughts down works better than Head On. It ranks as one of the worst commercials in my opinion. It's right up there with The Clapper and I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up (Life call).

Have a good Tuesday.

Row Ho Ho

We had great fun rowing in the Christmas boat parade. It was a real Row Ho Ho. It couldn't have been a nicer night for rowing with the stars out and minimal breeze.

A group of us put the lights on the boat and the oars (top photo) so that we were lit up festively. We weren't being judged but managed to be a crowd pleaser and one of the more recognizable boats in the parade.

There were judged categories of power and sail. Ours was all human powered with the only carbon footprint being our little generator which kept the lights going. The bottom photo shows one of the port side oars decorated appropriately in red.

On Sunday morning, I slept in until 8 AM for which I was grateful. My hands were a bit stiff from grasping the oars for so long but all in all, I wasn't too tired. In the evening, we went to the Awards Ceremony and several of our friends came away with second place prizes--one in the power boat category and one in the sail category.

We had a festive time and found this a great way to kick off the holiday season.

Hope that your weekend was enjoyable. I will be around to visit and make comments soon.

Rowing

I enjoy rowing and row with a team once a week. I also have a single that I row, although I tend to spend more time sailing than rowing the single anymore. We aren't competitive by any means and just do it for the sheer enjoyment of being on the water.

Tonight, we are rowing in the annual Parade of Boats. We are a crowd favorite because we are human powered, we sing off key, and we row close to the crowds where the larger boats can't. I'll post some photos hopefully of our Row-Ho-Ho adventures from the Parade.

SB thought about my love of rowing and sent me the following inspirational article by Jane Fishman of the Savannah Morning News.

Chris Banks is a competitor. He's a risk-taker. He's also stubborn, persistent and determined. He loves anything to do with water. Savannah, says this Orlando native, was a perfect fit. He trolls Tybee Island for shells and sand dollars. He kayaks. He walks the beach.

During his first few years in Savannah, he kept thinking he'd meet someone with a boat so he could go fishing. He didn't. Then someone told him about rowing - sometimes called crewing - so he called Scott Nohejl, who heads up CARA, Chatham Area Rowing Association. Nohejl took him on.

A few weeks ago, Banks rowed in his first competition, the 13th annual Head of the South Regatta down Augusta's segment of the Savannah River. Banks and his partner, CARA co-coach A.J. Certo, rowed a 5-K race in a double.

"We finished," laughed Banks at his first race. "I didn't really care about winning." I could relate. I rowed in the same competition in a boat of eight. Rowing may look cool from the shore or on TV, but it's hard. It's scary. The boat wobbles. It moves fast. Every stroke has to be synchronized with everyone else's. It's ballet on steroids. Once you get going, you can't stop to scratch your ear or get the hair out of your face or get a drink of water.

If you don't place your oar in or out just so, the force of the water can catch the edge and you can go flying. That's called crabbing. No one likes to crab. Sometimes you forget to breathe.

It's a very technical sport. While the stroke is explosive, the recovery time -when you move up the metal tracks in your moveable seat to get ready for the next stroke - is slow. Banks compares that part of it to cross-country skiing.

"It's about getting the right rhythm," he said. "You take a step, then glide and slow down, like the recovery in rowing." Feel the boat move, the coaches say. Listen to the water. Be one with your team.

"It's an amazing feeling to get it right," Banks said. "To get that perfect unison." It's a tough sport for a "sole player, a lone wolf," said Banks who is used to doing things on his own. "You have to learn discipline, restraint."

Once again, I could relate. He laughed when I repeated a frequent scolding from the coaches: "There's no 'I' in team, Jane."

Visualization helps nail down the form. All during rowing season, Banks said he would sit in bed at night and picture what he was supposed to do, when to move up the slide, how to plant his oar, how to move his hands away fast, how to hang onto the oar instead of yanking it back with his arms. I did the same thing.

"But that's where I might have an advantage," Banks, 37, said. "I am used to visualizing." Banks is blind. No distractions.

He could see a tiny bit as a boy, "kind of like looking through a pinhole," but his retinas, which never completely developed, started to deteriorate when he turned 15. When he's out on the water rowing, he says, he's not distracted like the rest of us. He's not looking around at his blade or the dolphins or the stars. His posture is good. His head is facing straight ahead. He's not doing anything to interfere with the keel of the boat.

Instead, he feels the stroke. He feels the oar. He feels the boat. He's also not afraid. "What's to be afraid of?" he said. "Over time, I've run into just about everything I could. I've broken every bone. I've lost a few teeth, fallen down stairs, slid into poles when I was water skiing. When I was a kid, my parents took me to a place in Tennessee with Astroturf where you can ski in the summer. They told me, 'Now don't go straight down.' Of course I did. After that, they got me a T-shirt that read: 'No guts, no glory.' They learned to let me do my own thing. I was going to anyway."

Banks was 21 when he got his first guide dog. That decision was hard; he did not want to accept that he was blind. But the dog, he said, changed his life. "I figured here's the ball, there's the touchdown." Banks got his first dog, Chevy, a yellow Lab, when he was a student at Florida State University. Together, they traveled to seven countries in seven weeks. Banks is not afraid to change directions. When a degree in hospitality from FSU didn't lead to meaningful work, he took up massage therapy, a job he brought to Savannah. Then, a few years ago, after listening to Richard Adams' "Watership Down," a fantasy novel about a group of rabbits, and another Adams book, "Traveller," a chronicle of the Civil War told by Traveller, Gen. Robert E. Lee's favorite horse, Banks decided to write his own book. "Hop Up! The Story of Pasco the Guide Dog," which is geared to young children, tells what it's like to be a guide dog from the dog's perspective. There's also a CD of the book.

"If I see something I want to do, I'll fight tooth and nail to do it," he said. "If I'm bored I tend to get in trouble. Such as? "Well," said his girlfriend, Linda Ravalli, "there was the time in Florida when I came home and found him on the roof. He was sweeping leaves and branches out of the gutter after a hurricane." Banks just shrugged. "I like a challenge."

Making progress

We picked out our tree today so that is making progress towards getting into the mood for Christmas. In fact, both of us felt rather merry about the whole tree experience.

We have faithfully gone to a tree farm for years to cut down our Christmas tree. But last year we decided to buy a tree that came from NC and was shipped down just after Thanksgiving. For some reason, the idea of sawing and cutting down a living tree just didn't appeal to me anymore. I know that sounds a bit silly in view of the fact that the tree we bought has already been cut down--by someone else. But even trees have souls to me.

Today also feels more like Christmas because it is seasonally cold. There is no snow such as the blogger friends in Houston and Denver have, but it is gray, overcast with scudding clouds. And I am loving the weather. It just makes it feel more like Christmas.

In fact, we are planning to go on an art walk downtown tonight, unless it really starts to rain. The art shops are open until 9 PM, with snacks and such. It's a chance to walk through the galleries that are generally closed at 6. And it's a chance to see the down town decorations with the trees lit on the square.

This will be a boating weekend of another ilk. I'll write about that tomorrow. But suffice to say that it will require a bit of energy and stamina. I need to build up a bit since today I'm a bit tired after a WTF party last night. For all you dirty minds out there, the WTF stands for Water The Future. It was a nice affair, but we both stayed up way past our usual bedtime.

I had a sponsee meeting at noon with a fellow who always makes me think. In fact, he thinks so deeply about things that he gets lost in the process. I am glad that I can listen and share my experience, strength, and hope but at the same time, know that he has to find his way in his time. He knows that the tools of recovery are there but likes to choose which ones he wants to use when he wants to use them.

Hope that your Friday is going well and filled with good stuff.

Keeping a journal

I have been keeping a daily journal for a few years now. A very few years actually. I remember that I had a kind of journal when I was younger and would write things in it, with the general theme being my raging hormones and what was happening with my girlfriend and me. I would also write about how things were going at home--whether it was a good day (my father not drinking) or whether it was a bad day (my father was drinking, criticizing, and angry).

That journal was just another outlet for me. During those years, I didn't write about gratitude except for selfish things and there were no affirmations and certainly no spirituality. It was all about me and what I wanted, who I wanted to be with, how mean other people could be, how angry I was at my father, and how much I hoped that things would just be happy. I still have those journals and have opened them up occasionally. But the flood of memories they bring makes me not want to linger long.

I have my mother's journals too. What an inspiring woman she was. She had so many interests and would write about what she was doing: planting flowers, going to parties, sewing, playing cards, visiting with friends. But what is not mentioned at all are her feelings. She doesn't write anything about how she felt, while my journals from my youth and from today are filled with feelings and emotions.

I have marveled at how Mary Christine has been able to recount events during her drinking years. While I was in college, graduate school and at this job for so many years, it all seems like a blur. I might be able to remember some significant events but not many details about what life was like. Now I can do that for the last few years because of my daily journal.

Today I write still about feelings but also about events and activities and about recovery. There is much gratitude and a lot of personal inventory in my journal. It's a place where I can review what my day was like. Some days I beat up on myself, even take another's inventory, but all in all I incorporate what I have learned through the steps.

I wonder whether in some year in the future someone will open these leather bound journals and wonder about the person who wrote them and have a sense of who I was. I hope so.

Some photos and history to share

I'm going to share some photos from the weekend excursion up one of the rivers in the area. I anchored the sailboat and rowed the dinghy so that I could get some photos of an old coal mining depot along some abandoned tracks. The sun was just starting to set so the light was good. And in one of the photos, the moon is on the rise.




The strange statue sitting on top of a tiled chimney was really interesting. I wonder who built it and what it signifies.




I talked to a friend who had been to this old coal loading station a while ago and he said that he heard someone typing in the building on an old typewriter. He decided that he didn't want to find out who it was as it was entirely too creepy. Sounds like fodder for a good story to me.

These old abandoned buildings have an interesting story. The coal tipple opened around 1915 as evidenced by the date on the facade. Its machinery could pick up a coal car and turn it over. The coal would tumble into a chute that led to a conveyer belt that led to a waiting ship. According to an article I read, the process took just a few minutes, and when things were working right, it could load up to 2,000 tons of coal onto a ship per hour.

The tipple was owned by the Southern Railway Co. who eventually shut it down in 1952. Much of the tipple was dismantled, although the pier and buildings were left. The pier and trestle was the site of a huge fire in 1976 that blackened the skyline of the city for hours.

About the only hope remaining is prospects of legislation to restore the buildings and pier and designate them a National Historic Landmark. But in these tough economic times, in a state that has had huge budget cuts, skyrocketing unemployment, and a host of other problems, I think that it's doubtful that anything will be done.

I suppose that this post has to do with potential recovery of old buildings. I hate to see part of local history lost. There is something appealing about old buildings that once had a place in another age.

I'm too tired for metaphors today. Yet, it seems that the older I get, the more nostalgic I become for "what used to be". I have a tendency to romanticize days gone by--not my own but general societal changes. I used to think that I would have been better suited for another era. But now I realize that I'm okay to be exactly where I am. Today is beckoning to me.

Alone with the killer

Following yesterday's post, I was thinking (sometimes dangerous for me) about how a perceived feeling of hopelessness can feed on itself, growing tentacles until it permeates every fiber of our being. I've sat in restaurants, which is one of my favorite places to people watch, and observed how alone people seem even when they are with another. Just a few days ago, I watched the blank stares of a middle aged couple, intent on chewing and staring at their mashed potatoes as if they were tea leaves foretelling the future.

I would wonder what these two were thinking. And why weren't they looking at each other, or saying something even if it was a trite comment such as "This gravy is a little watery." Yet, each seemed oblivious to the other, each lost in thought. Unfortunately, I don't think that this is unique. From my own experience, I've been in a room of over a hundred people and felt as alone as if I were on an iceberg floating in the southern ocean.

Such retreating inside my head was never a good choice for me. And that's because I tend to think too much, over analyzing just about everything. I often catch myself talking out loud when there is nobody in the room. Although most of you will say, "okay Syd, you are over the edge and ready for the rubber room", I can tell you that speaking something out loud that is stuck in a "do loop" in my head helps.

I think that is probably because I need to export the stuff that I'm thinking out of my head. I need to get out of myself and stop having a monologue about me. Because when I'm in my own head, oblivious to what or who is around me, then I am alone with the "killer".

This "killer" keeps me isolated, insecure and full of fear. It keeps me unaware, shut down, and will eventually kill all joy that I could experience. So what I see on many faces as I people watch is that they are alone with their "killer". I can see the thoughts grinding in their head as they chew their food. I don't know what their thoughts are, but I can bet that they aren't about adventure, excitement, joy, or spontaneity.

Suffering in silence seems to be a tragic part of alcoholism. One of the astounding things about being in recovery is that all the silent suffering I did, all the intellectualizing, all the hurtful thoughts that I kept inside, did nothing to make the problem go away. In fact, it only made me feel worse. I think each of us has been alone with the "killer", but I don't have to do that anymore. I may still suffer, but I don't have to do it alone.

I think that is one of the greatest things about recovery. I get to sit in a room full of other people several times a week, listen to them, be aware of their tears, their laughter, their smiles, their fidgeting hands and legs, and become free of what is in my own head. And instead of talking out loud to the ether, I get to say to others, and to my Higher Power, what is on my mind, and they get it. That is an awesome thing.