First Snow Saturday Morning

Tags

mountain biking, Nick, sheltie, snow, work

Here in Chicagoland, we are having our first snow of the season, one of those spectacularly beautiful and quiet storms that allows the snow to stick to the tree limbs.  Saturday morning is a pleasant time, in the warm weather months the day that I get a ride in with my friends.  When the snow hits our first instinct is to lament that the snow has put the brakes on our regularly scheduled ride.  Snow before the first freeze makes the trails muddy and slick, not good or appropriate for riding.  Not only does the mud cover the bike and damage shifting components, but riding muddy trails damages the trails.  Additionally, riding in mud is not as much fun as it sounds.  I could ride the streets, but it really is not worth the uncomfortable mess and the clean up required afterwards.  No.  I will likely give myself a few days rest from the bike, then set up the indoor trainer.

That means I need to get the rear wheel of my road bike rebuilt.  I rode my old Neuvation wheels one season too many, paid for it by a spoke nipple cracking the rear hoop and breaking through.  I need a new hoop.  Problem is that my car and family have required more than my bank account can handle, so I have put off replacing the wheel.  With my back up wheel loaned out to a friend and my back up bike sold for car repair money back in September, I may be forced to break out the old steel hybrid to ride on the trainer.  Such is life.

Until the end of December, I have access to the work out room at my office complex.  It’s equipped with bikes and nice big TVs, as well as a full weight room.  I will go there too, probably working out at the end of my work day.  Between Christmas and New Year’s, our three person office is moving out of the Regus center where we are renting individual offices.  We are leasing our own office suite, a very nice suite with our own lobby, glass fronts to each office, a large office for our managing director with room for a conference table.  It’s exciting for us because it feels like we are taking the next step to growth.

My little company is growing.  Well, it’s not “mine”, it’s the USA subsidiary to a Hungarian company, but since our subsidiary is just three people — managing director, office manager, and me (owner of many hats/responsibilities) — each of us feels like the subsidiary is ours.  In my first year with the company, our subsidiary won the global sales award and exceeded our sales goal by quite a bit.  We just signed a 2.3 million dollar contract with a company who wants to private label one of our products in the USA, as well as locking in several $100K orders with a few more cooking.  I am one busy man.  I like that.  I am getting credit from my boss for being a busy man, rewarded on a regular basis, and the three of us are working very well together.  It shows.

I could pick out the negatives of working for a Hungarian company.  There are several that make my work days challenging, but those challenges also are part of what makes my job interesting.

So I sit at the kitchen table, listening to the music I like, writing, waiting for my slumbering 16 year old to trudge out of bed in a few hours.  He will likely wake up in time for me to fix breakfast/lunch for him.

There is another person with me who likes the first snow of the year.  I absolutely love watching him dive into the snow as soon as I let him out the door.  Nick the sheltie is a little kid when it comes to snow, mesmerized by the white magic outside.  His thick coat of fur is perfect for this snow, so much that he is more comfortable outside when it snows.

This is an old picture, but I have already been greeted several times by a snow covered Nick.  He looks just like the picture right now!

 

Weekend Update

Tags

music, snow, weekends

I know it’s Tuesday and weekend updates should occur on Sunday night or Monday morning.  I have excuses.  Legitimate excuses.  (note — I started this blog on Tuesday and am finishing it on Wednesday, which is really really really pitiful)

Sunday night was the Super Bowl.

Yesterday I worked through lunch, left at four thinking I would cook an early dinner and take a little time to write, only to be foiled by a sales rep who called me on my cell three times.  After I finished dinner, a massive headache greeted me with fangs bared.

Excuses are now out of the way.  With a few minutes left to write before hitting the trail for work, I will now dig in to an account of the excellent weekend.  ‘Dig’ is a key word to describe part of the weekend.  For those who know I live in the Chicago area and follow the news, you probably know we had 18 inches of snow on Sunday.  That sounds bad.  In reality, it is not.  Those who live around here know that the solution is to hunker down indoors, keep ahead of the accumulation by clearing the drive and walk periodically throughout the day, and enjoy a pleasant cocoon.

View looking out on my back yard around 2 PM Sunday afternoon. There was still a lot of snow to fall.

Cocoon is what I did from around 2:30 PM to bed time on Sunday.  The couch time was well earned on Sunday morning.  As usual, I awoke a little before sun up.  Sunday was my assigned weekend for parking lot duty at church, usually involving directing traffic and greeting people as they arrive/depart services.  I cleared my own drive and front walk, got to church an hour early to perform my duties — which did not involve traffic control due to the blizzard that was happening.  Instead, I started shoveling and scraping the walks and handicapped parking area right away.  Four hours later I stopped, only taking a fifteen minute break.  I lost count of how many cars I dug out and helped push.  It sounds like work (and it was) but there is something about helping out at church, the many thanks that were sincerely given to me, that somehow creates a pleasant satisfaction.

My body was tired and sore from my shoulders to my feet, but I really liked the way that felt.  I stopped to buy mozzarella cheese sticks, pizza, and pop to enjoy with Nate during the Super Bowl, heated up some enchiladas for lunch when I got home, showered, then plopped on the couch for the duration of the day.  Satisfaction was aided by one of the best championship football games I have witnessed in years.

Alyssa brought her new beau, Caleb, home for the weekend.  Friday afternoon they picked me up at work for the trek to the Allstate Arena in Chicago for Winter Jam, a Christian music festival.  For $10 at the door we were treated to a 10 band, four hour concert.  Alyssa and I are fans of a group called Skillet, the featured band of the night and the last band to perform.  We brought ear plugs to save our ears.  Good, experienced concert goers bring ear plugs.  We weren’t weenies.  We were smart.

Contrary to what one might believe, Christian concerts are not boring.

Loved it.  Caleb was excited to go because his favorite band, For King and Country, performed.  He has good taste in music (and he mentioned that he also likes a favorite of mine, Phil Keaggy.  The kid made big points with me.).  They might be my new favorite, definitely the most entertaining of the night.  They resemble Fun… and they were just that.  Every one of the 7 featured bands were good, including Newsong, Family Force Five (white guys rapping and rapping well), Francesca Battestelli, and Jeremy Camp.

The concert was an opportunity to get to know my daughter’s new beau.  We spent three hours waiting in line outside the Allstate arena, a necessity.  A few years ago, we went but were too far back in line to get in before the arena filled to capacity.  My daughter seems to be in love and from what I observed in the boy, I approve.  The kid stayed with us Thursday night until Saturday night.  They left early due to the predicted snow storm.  He slept in Alyssa’s bed.

She wasn’t in her bed.  She slept in our bed with Miriam.

And he slept on top of the covers.  He brought his own blanket.  Caleb also brought his own towel and used it instead of the towels that Mir left out for him.  I guess he is polite.  That was how he treated my daughter and me.  He seemed quiet yet confident, evidenced by the handshake he gave to me when Alyssa introduced us.  It was a bit funny because he made sure he maintained eye contact as he shook my hand.  I think someone told him to do that as it seemed so intentional.

Alyssa and Caleb almost look like brother and sister, something I didn’t think about until I caught a tall slender teenage girl behind me in line for the concert looking a me with a smile.  Alyssa had just taken Caleb to the Target store next to the arena to warm up and buy snacks. The girl blushed at me, smiled again as she said

“It’s real nice of you to come to a concert like this for your kids.”

Ha!  I guess they do have similar features.  Had the girl’s mother not been with her, the comment would have made me feel old.  She also introduced me to her mom, a rather pleasant person who made the wait in line a lot more tolerable.  The cold gave us an excuse to dad/mom dance for our children.  We had to stay warm, after all.

Friday afternoon was sunny but cold. We’re talking mid 20s. But we had a good time waiting in line for the concert.

Saturday afternoon I also took Nate out for another driving lesson.  This time I selected a large parking lot at the stadium where a local Class A professional baseball team plays, the Kane County Cougars.  Nate seemed a little hesitant this time, probably due to how our first driving lesson turned out.  There was no driving over a curb this time though.  I went through a thorough review of the purpose of each pedal, gear shift positions, what to do with the clutch while braking.  My son killed the engine a few times, but over all he did very well.  Too well at times.  I taught my daughter to drive also.  Girls do not drive as fast as boys when they are learning to drive.  Nate was digging the speed and handling of my little VW a bit too much!

There is the weekend report.  Three days late isn’t too bad.

My Companion

Tags

mans best friend, Nick, snow, surgery recovery

This has been my view for the past few hours, a loyal furry companion who just will not leave my side.  He is ecstatic to have me home, on the comfy couch with warm blankets and a hand to pet him or to lick.  Right now, Nick the Sheltie is sunning himself at my feet.  A good portion of the morning he has been snuggled in next to me, occasionally sneaking over to put his head in my lap for a pet.

“Licky Nicky” always needs to communicate with me with a lick of the hand. The guy is so loving.

Of course, yesterday was our first measurable snowfall of the year.  I came home from the hospital amidst falling snowflakes, my head and eyelids heavy from the affects of the morning’s anethstesia (can’t spell that one, I’m out of the Bee).  Mir kept asking me if I was sleepy, just as my eyelids were closing.  Only my groggy state kept me from slapping her, the questions timed all day as if she were trying to keep me from resting.  Sometimes the best care is just to leave me alone.  She got the message after a few irritated replies. My parents came over in the afternoon, visited for a while, brought food, then left to let me rest.  I slept quite well, waking to trickle (groggy pees are the worst thing ever), then return to the couch.  This morning I awoke are 4 AM, took some of the pain pills I was given, slept until 6 AM, then have been awake since.  Soon I will take more pills, but for now I am enjoying the lucidity, the dog at my feet, and the sun streaming through our living room windows.

Ahhhh, sun and warm blankets and Steve (he’s still there, even as I write).

Nick loves the snow.  When I let him out this morning, he couldn’t resist a good roll in the fluffy stuff.  He ignored me when I called him to come in.  My dog can be such a kid some times.  So instead I let him enjoy the cold and snow for a while, sat at the kitchen table in front of our sliding glass door to the back deck, cat in my lap.  Chester is my other furry friend….

Who me? You talkin’ to me? I’m invisible. You can’t possibly want me to come in already!

A Need For Snow

Tags

blog friends, chicagoland, friends, gibby, pt cruiser, snow

Snow at last.  Echoed across the Chicago area for the past few months has been the theme of the lack of true snowfall we have had here.  Last winter was a dry one, so much so that my snow blower never left the shed in my back yard.  This season has been the same with very little of the wintry white that gives our landscape so much beauty during the cold months.  Without it there seems so little reason to enjoy the cold weather.  “Snow at last” has been heaved with a satisfied sigh by many friends in the last few days.  Evan a blizzard would be welcomed, odd as that seems.

My PTCruiserToTheAutoPartsStore even seems to welcome the snow this morning, a fresh dusting of snow mixing with the gray coat so appropriate for my old car, giving it a handsome distinguished look.  No matter how much I grouse about the car, deep down I really like my vehicle.  My old friend, Gibby, an eighty year old black man who possessed the same handsome distinguished look my old car is sporting this morning, used to poke a lot of fun at the Cruiser.  Gibby had a soft spot for old Cadillacs, jazz music, and people.  His good natured ribbing helped me to appreciate the car, something I had to learn simply because I bought the car because it was cheap and had a bit of turbo charged zip to it.  Gibby had a way of opinionated appreciation, delivered with a gentle yet ornery smile, and I learned to be thankful for that car in the straightforward way he told me to be grateful for what I have.  He liked knowing about my life, a black man who had grown up tough in Omaha, showing me that I truly am blessed.  I can’t help but think about him when I look at my PT Cruiser or listen to a good jazz tune.

The snow.  My friends.  My car.  Gibby.  All blessings, gifts presented to me in a way that convince me I am special.  Think about that for a few seconds and you will know what I mean.

Gibby was an online friend, someone I met by chance through a blog I used to have.  I found him when a random search for fans of Bob Gibson, one of my all time favorite St. Louis Cardinal pitchers, found Gibby’s page.  There were paintings of Gibson on Gibby’s site as well as pictures, so I made Gibby a contact.  And I found out later on that I was making friends with Bob Gibson’s older brother.  How cool is that?  For a lifetime Cardinal fan, it’s downright awesome.

And I learned another lesson from Gibby – sometimes it’s not so easy living in the limelight of another’s accomplishments.  Gibby had his own life and, though he was too polite to really say it, he really preferred staying out of that limelight.  And so I learned to love Fred “Gibby” Gibson, the true Gibby in my eyes and others, aside from who was related to.

Gibby also complimented me in a way that I need, indirectly, commenting one time about my way with words being something he wished he had.  He said the same about Sandy’s photography with a genuine admiration, a gift he possessed.  He made me glad for what I have, aware of what I have.  Gibby was a man who lived through a lot, loved deeply, persevered, benefitted from mistakes he made — and shared that with me in a way that showed me the importance of staying with what means the most to me and maintaining what I want to keep.  A bit like my PTCruiserToTheAutoPartsStore, a vehicle that has taught me the value of seeing past the quirks.

There are only a few online friends I have met face to face during my years of writing a blog.  There are three who I consider to be a true God send, friends in the truest sense of the word, who have been there with me for several years now.  One of those friends is Sandy, a whacked out mother of three from Minnesota who clicked with me from day one, a gifted photographer who loved the way I responded to a photo challenge by sending her a picture of myself in a bathroom stall (ummm… in a non creepy pose).  She doctored the photo by putting herself in the photo wielding what she called a “poop knife”.  Thus our relationship began, an honest friendship that many misguided people have confused as something romantic, but it’s a kinship that has been a blessing to us both.  Sandy and I met a few years ago, when she drove with her mother to meet me at a halfway point for a few hours.. and photos of us together at urinals in a men’s room (the theme progressed) as well as a fake photo of her sitting on my back beating me up.  Sandy is a genuine sister to me.

And a little over a year ago she suggested we go to Omaha to visit Gibby.  She also had become a friend to Gibby.  I think he was a bit infatuated with her.  So we did.  Sandy found cheap airfare for us both, we flew to Omaha on a Friday afternoon, met him, took him to dinner, went to his favorite jazz club (the Touch of Class), and spent a great night face to face with our friend Gibby.  It was one of the best things I have ever done, meeting one of the warmest human beings with a genuine smile.  Gibby.  Sandy thought Gibby was very handsome, an 82 year old man who still had it.  The live jazz was wonderful.  The time with friends spectacular.

Gibby died this past December.  Had it not been for Sandy, I never would have met the Gibby face to face, never would have gained the depth of friendship that only could have been gained by meeting my friend.  There are things in my life now that remind me of him.  I am glad for that.

The snow outside looks beautiful.