Stupid things I do.

As many of you know, I have muscular dystrophy, and therefore have a problem with stairs and heavy lifting. Well, the last two days, I did something very foolish. I got up on a ladder and painted a ceiling.

There had been a leak in the apartment above, and that resulted in a stain on the ceiling in question. Rather than hand the company the expense of repairing the damage, I figured that I could just step up and paint over it. Big mistake.

By the time I was finished yesterday, I was aching all over from the strain of getting up the ladder and reaching to do the painting. I have a bruise on my right shin from where I banged it against the ladder at some point, and I have multiple strains.

I don't know where I would be without my wife. She massaged my aches, right through all of my whining and complaining. She even got out the muscle lotion to try and ease my right thigh and back muscles. She is a woman of great patience when I do stupid things like this to myself. Anyone else would have told me to stop bellyaching and just deal with the consequences.

Needless to say, any other such work is going to have to be done by professionals.

What my father taught me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but my father taught me a lot of the things that I was ever going to need in life. He didn't sit me down and lecture me about them, he just always did things a certain way. Leadership by example is what they call it today.

One of the first rules he taught me was that if you give your word, you bloody well keep it. My father is one of the most trustworthy people I have ever had the good fortune to know. When he told somebody that he would be someplace, he was there, even if he had to walk. If Dad said that he would pay somebody for something, it was paid, on time, and gladly. I suspect he is one of the few people who still believe that a promise made on a handshake is just as binding as anything on paper.

Another or my father's rules for life is that you always treat any female, regardless of age or social station as a lady. This wasn't really explained in any way. It just got ingrained in me that you were always polite to a lady, until she proved herself otherwise. Doors are to be held open, jackets are to be helped on with, things like that. Now, a lot of that training came from my mother, but Dad always backed it up.

The rule that he most definitely taught me was that a man always takes care of the tools he works with each day. He has always been very careful about cleaning out paint brushes and making sure his saw did not get rusty. He makes tools last far longer than your average guy. It shows respect for the tools that allow you to make a living. Many is the time I've taken extra care with something that I use, be it kitchen equipment or a paint brush, and gotten odd looks from coworkers. I just hate to see a tool misused or carelessly thrown about.

My father taught me about commitment, honesty and respect.

Why don't these things take until we grow up a bit?

Joe upgraded?

I had been thinking about upgrades to the computer that I use everyday. After all, it is five years old now, and was likely obsolete the moment it came out of the box. Technology moves so quickly these days. Naturally, these are the changes I would make if I had all kinds of money, so it is more of a wish list than anything else.

A web cam of decent quality would be nice. That way people who I chat with could actually see me if they so chose. And if I had bothered to get decent that day. Instant messaging is something I use fairly often, so this is a device that would get a lot of use. In that same vein, I would like to have an even better quality microphone, one that is voice activated and that I don't have to have stuck to the side of my face. Maybe as part of the web cam?

Another good feature to have would be voice print. I would like to be able to dictate a letter or commands, and not have to type so much. My fingers don't always do exactly what I tell them to these days. Besides which, it might be nice to try a hands-free approach to computing.

The drawback is that everyone else's computer would have to be capable of receiving all of this media. I have tried using my microphone to at least get voice communication, but it seems like nobody is set up for it. None of the people I chat with anyway.

Maybe an upgrade isn't so important after all. Just slow down my typing and keep this system running at best performance.

When it's not fun anymore

My wife is part of an on-line bingo and other game league. She hosts two tournaments each night. This is strictly for fun, and a volunteer thing. She doesn't get anything out of hosting other than chatting with her friends.

Tonight, one of the head administrators got all upset with her because a member who had not registered in time was not able to play in her second tournament. This upset Sandra very much. She tries so hard to keep the members happy, and it isn't easy getting players for the second tournament slot, so when there are enough, she closes and begins on schedule.

I don't think it was fair to yell at her because somebody couldn't register in time.

When something like this becomes more like a job than a hobby, when do you just say "to hell with it" and let it go? She really enjoys the league, and so many of the people she has encountered through it. It would be a shame to have her drop her hobby because somebody was upset one night.

I think we need to sit back and remember why we joined this league to begin with. If it isn't fun, what is the point?

Upon entering a residence.

Nothing quite so philosophical today.

I want to talk about housekeeping.

It's odd, but you can tell an awful lot about a person from the way that they keep their home. I say this with authority, because I have had occasion to be in a number of apartments in the last two weeks. The difference between a residence and home can be felt within three feet of the door. It isn't always the obvious things either that will give away how much a person cares about where they live.

One place I was in recently was done up with homey touches. A mirror here, a prized possession there. Little pieces of the tenant's history were in the entry. It was like being welcomed into her life a bit to walk through the door. Another had just a clean hallway, with things set neatly to one side. Still, it said to me that she liked to be organized, and that if you were willing to abide by her rules, you would be welcome. A third place had things haphazardly thrown about, with some attempt at keeping order, but not much success. That was a home with somebody who just tries to keep up with things as they happen.

Guys as a rule go one of two ways. Either the place is a pigsty, because that is the way they live their lives at home, or they keep things regimented and orderly. Few men go to the trouble of arranging things for show, in my experience. Once in a while you will see something like a family picture or a favorite piece of art, but most guys can't be put to the bother. Either it's too much effort, or it would be seen as a useless waste of wall space.

Myself, I'd like to decorate with a combination of functionality and family warmth. I want people to know that they are entering a home, not just a place that I happen to live. At the same time, I want it to be obvious where things belong.

My wife is a wonder at making these touches just right. I think, with her choices, she creates a feel in the foyer of our unit that says, "This is us."

There is a saying about first impressions. It applies to feelings as well as tangibles. Our homes can either feel like one, or not. It all depends on who we are and how we live.