After completing the CERT program last Tuesday, we had our first drill at the local fire station. We spent the day going over everything we had learned during the past nine weeks. Overall, I think everyone did pretty well. However, one of our team members managed to get “electrocuted” during the simulation and had to be carried out along with the other cardboard victims.
Before anyone panics, it was all simulated. Nobody actually got electrocuted.
He was properly embarrassed, though, which is probably the best kind of lesson because I doubt he’ll make that same mistake again anytime soon. I’m not sure when our next drill will be, but hopefully it won’t be too far off. We learned a lot over those nine weeks, and at my age, if you don’t use it, you start forgetting where you put it.
I made it home with just enough daylight left to finish my mom’s Mother’s Day gift. Thankfully, most of the hard work had already been done. All I had left was to nail everything together and add the flowers. By the time I finished, though, I was more than ready to introduce myself to the recliner and heating pad for the rest of the evening.
The pain block seems to have helped a little. I think I may have overdone things yesterday and irritated my back again because I can definitely tell the difference between yesterday and today. Apparently, my back still believes I’m twenty years old right up until it sends me the bill the next morning.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll be heading in to have another spot of skin cancer removed. This one is on my right side. The last time was on my left arm, so apparently, my skin believes in equal opportunity. I’m hoping they can get it all in one visit, so I won’t have to keep going back week after week to have more cut off.
Other than that, tomorrow is my only appointment, aside from Bible study on Tuesday morning. Depending on how well my back feels, how the procedure goes, and whether the weather cooperates, I may try to sneak away and go fishing one day next week.
At this point, sitting in a boat holding a fishing pole sounds a whole lot better than sitting in another doctor’s office waiting room.
I had a pain block in my back late this afternoon. I’ve had several pain blocks for my sciatic nerve over the years, and thankfully, they’ve worked pretty well. The doctor says it can take a day or two before you really notice the full effect, but I can already tell there’s a little improvement. At this point, I’ll take “little improvement” over “walking like a ninety-year-old penguin” any day.
I’m scheduled to go back in two weeks for another block, but apparently, Medicare has decided that anesthesia is now considered some sort of luxury item instead of a necessity. Evidently, according to someone sitting comfortably behind a desk somewhere, getting needles stuck in your spine should be considered “part of the experience.”
I’ve had sciatic nerve blocks without anesthesia before, and let me tell you, “uncomfortable” is not a strong enough word. I survived it, but I also briefly considered updating my will during the procedure. Now they want to do the back without anesthesia, too. I may discover just how brave I really am because paying $225 every visit might send me into cardiac arrest before the back pain does.
After the next pain block, the doctor wants me to have something called RFA — Radio Frequency Ablation. From what I understand, it basically involves burning the nerve endings so they stop sending pain signals. Nothing says modern medicine quite like, “Good news! We’re just going to burn part of your nerves.” I’m sure it’s perfectly safe, but the wording alone sounds like something dreamed up in a medieval torture chamber.
Apparently, though, it works well for a lot of people, so I’m trying to stay optimistic.
Of course, the moment Rick — my fishing buddy — heard I was feeling a little better, he immediately sent me a text asking if we were going fishing in the morning. That man can sense improved mobility from three counties away.
I told him no. I’m taking a day of rest and trying to finish up a couple of projects, including my mom’s Mother’s Day gift. Besides, every fish in Alabama deserves at least one day each week when they don’t have to worry about seeing my kayak floating toward them.
My Kindle still hasn’t shown up either. I’m holding off ordering another one until after Sunday, just in case some honest person found it and turns it in. I still can’t figure out how it vanished between church and home last Sunday. I’m beginning to think it either sprouted legs or was taken by the same mysterious force that steals socks out of dryers.
Thankfully, the severe storms they were predicting never really materialized around here. I’m grateful for that because storms make me extremely anxious — especially tornadic weather. I’ve never liked it, and honestly, I probably never will.
What amazes me is how some meteorologists start the “doom and gloom” forecasts ten days in advance, like they’re auditioning for an apocalypse movie. Every social media platform suddenly turns into nonstop radar screenshots, dramatic music, and phrases like “potentially catastrophic event.”
Meanwhile, the weather changes fifteen times before the storm even gets here.
Now, the meteorologist I normally watch is different. He’s a straight shooter. He doesn’t try to scare everybody half to death just to rack up clicks and views online. Some of these other weather folks act like they’ve been sitting backstage all year waiting for severe weather season so they can finally get more airtime than the sports department.
Normally, the sports guys get all the glory with football, basketball, baseball, and everything else. The weather guy usually gets about ten minutes to point at a cold front and tell us there’s a thirty percent chance of rain. But let a tornado watch pop up somewhere, and suddenly they’re on television for six straight hours living their best life.
Unfortunately, all those dramatic weather posts somehow flood my social media feeds whether I want to see them or not. And once I start seeing tornado predictions, my anxiety kicks into overdrive, and I’m ready to crawl into a hole somewhere until it all passes.
Maybe that hole needs Wi-Fi, though… especially if my Kindle never comes home.
With Mother’s Day fast approaching, I decided it was time to push through the pain and make something for my mom. She loves plants—like, really loves plants—so I figured a couple of wooden planters would be the perfect gift. Plus, I’ve got a pile of scrap wood that’s been quietly judging me for months, including some cypress fencing material my wife has been not-so-subtly encouraging me to “do something with.”
So, around 9:30 this morning, I dragged all my equipment outside and got to work. By about 11:30, I had everything cut down to size and was feeling pretty good about life. That’s usually the exact moment things take a turn.
I started assembling the first planter and quickly realized something wasn’t right. The pieces weren’t lining up like the plans said they should. Now, the plans called for ¾-inch wood… and I’m working with ½-inch. Details, right? Apparently not. Turns out, those little fractions matter.
Still, I pressed on.
At this point, I’ve got one planter about 90% complete. It’s… let’s just say “custom shaped.” Not exactly square, which means putting the top boards on requires some math. And if you’ve followed me for any length of time, you already know—math and I are not on speaking terms. I’m pretty sure an angle finder is in my near future, the next time I wander into the store pretending I know what I’m doing.
After spending most of the day bending, lifting, and moving around, my back has officially filed a formal complaint. Sitting usually doesn’t bother me, but tonight I can’t seem to find a position that doesn’t make me question why I thought this was a good idea. The heating pad is doing its best, but the second I move, my back reminds me who’s really in charge. I took a pain pill earlier, but it’s apparently operating on its own schedule.
After looking at what I’ve completed on this planter, I’m not really happy with it. It’s one of those projects that looked a whole lot better in my head than it does sitting in front of me. So, there’s a good chance this one becomes a “keep it at the house” planter, and I’ll come up with something else for Mom.
I guess you could say this was my practice run… whether I planned it that way or not.
It all really depends on how I’m feeling after this upcoming pain block. If I can get a little relief and move around without feeling like my back is plotting against me, I may give it another shot and build something I’m actually proud to give her.
If not, well… Mom may be getting something a little less handmade and a little more store-bought this year—and honestly, she’ll probably love it just the same.
As for doctor updates, I’ve now got two appointments lined up—one with the orthopedic in mid-June and another with a pain specialist next Thursday. I’m hoping the pain specialist can help take the edge off until June gets here.
And yes, I’ll admit it… I probably shouldn’t have stayed out on that kayak as long as I did last Thursday. But I’ll still argue it was worth it. I needed that time on the water—maybe just not that much time.
Tomorrow looks like it’ll be a recliner day. I plan on catching up on my Bible study material for Tuesday morning. Theology isn’t exactly my strong suit, but I’m giving it my best shot—kind of like woodworking and math.
I also had a visit with my oncologist last week. My iron levels were low again, so they gave me a shot of Epoetin alfa to help boost my red blood cell production. They also ran my BCR-ABL1 test to check on my CML. The last several tests over the past six months have come back non-detectable, which is great news. I’m curious to see how this one turns out, though—it seems like those numbers like to keep me guessing. Should have results in a few days.
Other than that, things are pretty quiet around here. I’ll finish up that planter (eventually), survive the math, and hopefully have something worth showing for it.
I’ll check back in when I’ve got something else to write about… or when the second planter decides to humble me too.
I didn’t get skunked at today’s show—but let’s just say I wasn’t exactly loading up a wheelbarrow full of cash either.
The event was the first annual car show to benefit Paws for the Cause, and I’ll give it this—it had a good heart, even if it didn’t have much of a crowd. Vendors started trickling in, slowly… very slowly. In fact, I had enough time to sit and watch them arrive like it was a parade with no audience. The classic cars? Even fewer. I think I saw more empty parking spots than chrome bumpers.
Each vendor paid $30, car owners paid $20, and everyone had to bring a large bag of dog food. That part, I genuinely liked. Knowing the food would go to the Humane Society made it feel worthwhile. At the end of the day, even if I didn’t make much, at least some dogs are eating better tonight—and that’s a win you can’t really argue with.
Now, about the selling…
It took me about two hours to make my first sale. Two hours. I had time to rethink my entire inventory and briefly consider whether the guy selling kettle corn was onto something. Then… nothing. Not a single sale until the final minutes before packing up. It was like the universe said, “Let’s keep him just hopeful enough to stay.”
If you don’t count the cost of the dog food, I broke even. So technically, I didn’t lose money… but I didn’t exactly win either. I’m still chasing that one product—the one that people see and immediately say, “I need that.” So far, that magical item remains as elusive as a full parking lot at today’s show.
Looking around, though, I think I did all right compared to some of the other vendors. A few of them spent most of the day parked at a picnic table nearby. At one point, I wasn’t sure if they were selling products or just holding down the table so it wouldn’t blow away.
Speaking of blowing away… the wind showed up late but made a dramatic entrance. By the end of the day, tents were starting to lift and shift like they had somewhere better to be. I’m pretty sure that’s what convinced the organizer to shut things down about an hour early—and honestly, nobody argued.
For now, I don’t have any shows lined up, which might be a blessing in disguise. It’ll give me time to reorganize, take inventory, and figure out what needs restocking—and maybe, just maybe, stumble across that one item that actually sells consistently.
In the meantime, I’ve got a couple of orders to finish up, and that feels like progress.
No, it wasn’t a sellout. No, it wasn’t a disaster.
Just another day behind the booth… and another story to tell.
At 4:00 a.m., my alarm will go off, signaling the start of a long—but hopefully rewarding—day. I’ll roll out of bed, grab some breakfast, and head out to meet my fishing buddy at his place by 5:30.
But before I ever get to the water, today was about preparation.
After spending hours out in the heat working on crafts, I came home and shifted gears—loading up the kayak, rods, and every piece of electronics I’ll need. I made sure batteries were fresh, gear was in place, and all safety equipment was accounted for. Or at least… most of it.
Ever since the great Easter weekend cleanup (or “panic clean,” if we’re being honest), there are still a few things that seem to have vanished into thin air. I had a feeling that once I started moving everything around, I’d forget where I put something important.
I was right.
A few weeks ago, I bought some proper red safety flags for the back of my kayak—bright, reflective, and actually visible. In Alabama, anything over 12 feet is supposed to have a red flag attached, and my old solution—a once-red rag—is now so faded it looks more like a tired brown surrender flag than anything useful.
And of course… I can’t find the new ones.
I know how this story ends. I’ll stumble across them one day while I’m tearing the house apart looking for something else I can’t find. That’s just how it works.
But missing flags or not, I’m determined to make the most of tomorrow. A good day on the water doesn’t come from perfect preparation—it comes from being there.
Somewhere in between all of that, I’ve also got a craft fair coming up Saturday. Today, despite the heat, I managed to put together a couple of new trial pieces—a rustic serving tray and a small hanging planter. I didn’t go all in on them just yet. No sense in making a dozen of something if nobody wants one.
But if they sell? I’ll be making more.
There’s something satisfying about working with your hands—whether it’s shaping wood into something useful or casting a line and waiting on that tug. Different kind of work, same kind of reward.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned doing craft fairs, it’s this: never expect the same market twice.
This is my third year setting up booths, unloading tables, and hoping today is the day I finally figure out “the one thing everyone has to have.” So far… that mystery item is still in hiding.
For those who don’t know, I do laser engraving and cutting. I’ve engraved just about anything that will sit still long enough—wood, concrete, glass, mirrors, slate tile, even white tiles. I’ve also tried to think outside the box, turning scrap wood into pieces that are a little different from the usual.
There is a market for this kind of work—I’ve seen it with my own eyes. One weekend I’ll sell just about everything I brought, and I go home feeling like a crafting genius. Then I spend the next week busting my tail trying to restock… only to show up at the next fair and sell absolutely nothing.
Today was one of those “nothing” days.
Now, to be fair, there is a small upside to not selling anything—you don’t have to rush home and panic-build inventory for next weekend. So I guess that’s my silver lining.
I had some interesting neighbors today. The lady to my left was selling handmade pot holders. She had a steady stream of people stopping by, but I couldn’t tell if they were buying or just admiring her work.
To my right was a lady selling crocheted items, and I can confidently say—she did just fine. I heard her more than once explaining which forms of payment she accepted, which is always a good sign you’re making sales.
Somewhere nearby was another gentleman doing woodcraft like me, mostly engraved oak charcuterie boards. I couldn’t see his booth very well, so I’m not sure how he did. But from what I’ve noticed over time, the charcuterie board craze might be cooling off a bit. Seems like what was once the hot item isn’t quite as hot as it used to be.
And that’s the challenge.
I’m still trying to find that one product that flies off the table every single time. So instead, I bring a little bit of everything. One fair, something random sells like crazy. The next fair—like today—it just sits there looking back at me.
I’ve walked other booths, watched what people are buying, and followed other makers online. They’ll tell you, “Make this—it’ll sell all day long.” Maybe for them. For me? Not so much.
It can get a little discouraging.
But here’s the thing—I actually enjoy the process. I like being out in the garage, creating something out of nothing. I like experimenting, even if it doesn’t turn into a best-seller. And truth be told, I enjoy the craft fairs themselves… even the slow ones.
Because when the crowds thin out and the sales aren’t happening, that’s when the conversations start. You meet people. You swap stories. You laugh a little. And sometimes, that ends up being worth more than a table full of sold-out inventory.
So no, I haven’t found “the one thing” yet.
But I’m still looking. And in the meantime, I’ve got a garage, a laser, and another craft fair next weekend… which means I’ve got another roll of the dice.
I can’t really say the craft fair/food truck extravaganza was a total bust… mainly because technically it did happen.
Of the fifteen vendors who signed up, four of us actually showed up.
Four.
Now, no one really seems to know why the other eleven didn’t make it. Maybe they overslept. Maybe they checked the weather and decided it looked suspicious. Maybe they looked at their alarm clock that morning and said, “You know what? I’m good.”
Whatever the reason, part of me is honestly glad they didn’t show up.
In fact, being one of only four vendors worked out pretty well for me. I didn’t make a lot of money, but I did make enough to get my registration fee back. When you’re doing craft fairs, sometimes breaking even is considered a small victory.
There were at least five food trucks set up at the event, and I suspect that’s what most people came for. The smell of barbecue, fried food, and whatever magical seasoning food trucks use tends to pull a crowd much faster than a table full of handcrafted items. People were definitely walking around with plates of food in their hands.
But every once in a while, someone would wander over to the vendor tables between bites.
One of the great things that often comes from doing these shows is meeting other craft vendors. I still remember the first show I did a couple of years ago. I was extremely nervous. I had no idea what to expect.
I kept asking myself questions like:
Am I charging too much? Am I charging too little? What if someone is selling the exact same thing I’m selling, but for half the price?
After that first show, though, I slowly started learning the ins and outs of how these things work. The more shows I did, the more comfortable I became with what I was selling and how everything operated.
Around here, there’s a local state park that hosts a monthly craft fair that brings in over a hundred vendors each month. These shows have been around for a long time. I remember going there as a teenager just to walk around and see what people were selling.
Things have definitely changed over the years.
Back then, it seemed like most people were selling handmade crafts. These days, a lot of booths are filled with boutique items people bought in bulk somewhere and are reselling at a markup. Others are selling what I would politely call “yard sale items”—things that were probably sitting in their garage a week earlier, and they finally decided it was time to part with.
Several people stopped by my table on Saturday, asking if I set up at those big trade days events.
The short answer is no.
The longer answer is that those events require a lot of product because of the amount of traffic they get. I simply don’t have that kind of surplus inventory.
What I sold Saturday was pretty much everything I had made over the past few weeks. With the equipment I use, each project takes time to complete. It can take close to an hour just to cut one item.
Then you have to sand it.
After sanding, it needs to be painted or stained.
Then, in most cases, the pieces have to be assembled together.
On average, I’d estimate it takes at least three hours to complete a single item.
Now I do try to stay organized. While something is being cut, I’m often sanding another piece or painting something else. Sometimes I’m assembling one project while another one is drying. My little garage workshop tends to look like a carefully managed mess most days.
One of the things I really enjoy about doing these shows is meeting people who are doing something similar. The vendor set up to my left on Saturday was a young guy selling 3D-printed items. His stuff looked really good.
I’m not sure what he was charging for his pieces, but as we were packing up, he told me he hadn’t even sold enough to cover his vendor fee.
That’s the risk you take with these events.
Since there were only four vendors there and the crowd wasn’t exactly overwhelming, we had plenty of time to get to know each other. Turns out he’s in his late twenties and has two kids—one five years old and the other just five months old. His wife came by toward the end of the day, and I had the chance to meet her as well. They seemed like wonderful people.
At one point, he mentioned that he owns fifteen CNC machines—everything from diode lasers to CO₂ laser systems.
“Hobby?” I asked.
Because that sounded more like a small manufacturing facility than a hobby.
He laughed and explained that he also has a full-time job installing granite countertops for new home construction. He showed me some photos of his work, and it was actually pretty impressive. From the looks of his product table, his 3D printing work was pretty impressive as well.
He told me he regularly sells at the trade days event I mentioned earlier and has been doing it for several years. Most of the time, there’s a waiting list just to get a spot at those events. I’ve actually looked into selling there myself, but as I’ve already said, I just don’t have the inventory to support a show that size.
But then something interesting happened.
This coming Saturday and Sunday is the next trade-days event, and he has invited me to set up a table beside him. His idea was simple: bring some of my products and see what it’s like to sell there.
I haven’t given him an official answer yet.
But the more I think about it, the more it sounds like it might be a good idea. I think I’d probably have a lot of fun just experiencing the event from the vendor side.
Truth be told, I suspect he might just want the company I’d bring to the table—so to speak. He certainly kept my ear busy most of Saturday, and honestly I didn’t mind the conversation myself.
The downside to all of this is simple math.
I already have two confirmed shows coming up. If I add this trade-day event to the list, that means I’ll be spending a lot more hours out in the garage making things to sell.
On the bright side, it will keep me out of my wife’s hair and out of trouble.
And historically speaking, staying out of trouble has always been a pretty good life strategy.
It’s been a busy week, and I’ve finally been able to relax for a little bit. Tomorrow I’ve got a craft fair, and I’ve been working feverishly trying to finish several projects that I’ll be selling.
Back in November, I sold nearly everything I had at my last craft fair, which was great… except for the fact that I’ve been procrastinating ever since. The main reason? My workshop is in the garage, and my garage has been roughly the same temperature as a commercial freezer lately. There’s something about stepping into a cold garage and standing there for hours that makes procrastination seem like a perfectly reasonable life choice.
This will be my second year attending this particular craft event. I actually know the sister of the lady organizing it. Their organization is trying to raise funds to put lights on a Little League baseball field so kids can play at night, which is a pretty great cause.
Last year was their first year holding the event. Attendance was a little light, and I didn’t sell much. This year I’m hoping for a better turnout—especially since I actually have to pay a vendor fee.
Truth be told, the main reason I’m attending is that I went to high school with the organizer’s sister. So really, I’m treating it more like a charitable event. If I sell a lot, that’s great. If not, at least it’s supporting a good cause.
There are two more craft shows in the area that I might sign up for, depending on how tomorrow goes. If I sell a lot, I may skip them because my inventory will be pretty limited. As it stands, I’ve pretty much used up most of the materials I had on hand.
My next big event is on the 11th of next month, and I’ve been told there will be over 150 vendors selling their arts and crafts. That will likely be one of the largest craft fairs I’ll attend all year. I plan to take a couple of days off from making crafts once tomorrow’s event is over, but once my supplies come in, I’ll be back out in the garage working like a one-man production factory.
Next week should be interesting as well. One of my daughters is on Spring Break. She works for a large university and follows the same schedule as the students. Her big idea for the week is to go kayaking.
The only problem is that the places around here that offer river tours aren’t open yet. Most of them don’t start until after Easter or sometime in May.
So my wife and I decided to improvise.
We ordered a kayak from Walmart so the three of us could go kayaking at one of the places where I normally go fishing. I went to pick it up, and they brought the kayak out… but no paddle.
When I asked about it, the associate told me the paddle wasn’t included.
Now I’m not one to argue, but I had a pretty strong feeling that a kayak without a paddle is basically just a brightly colored floating chair. So I pulled up the online ad on my phone.
Not only did it clearly say the kayak came with a paddle, but it also showed that the price had dropped to $32, which was a bit shocking considering I had paid $200 the day before.
When I showed the associate, the first response was that it must be a misprint. After a short conversation with the manager, two things happened.
First, they found me a paddle.
Second, they refunded me the difference in price.
So not only did I leave with a kayak and a paddle, but I also left with a pretty substantial refund that I was not expecting when I walked into the store.
Next week, when we head out to the creek, my wife and daughter will be paddling around, enjoying the scenery. Meanwhile, I’ll be doing what I normally do when I’m near water—doing a little fishing and hoping I might catch a fish or two.
If I’m lucky, I’ll catch something.
If not, at least I’ll still have the story about the $200 kayak that turned into a $32 kayak with a free paddle.
And honestly, that might be the biggest catch of the week.
Hobbies can serve many purposes. AI summarizes them as follows:
Provide relaxation and stress relief from daily pressures
Foster creativity and self-expression through various activities
Enhance skills and knowledge in specific areas of interest
Promote social connections and friendships with like-minded individuals
Improve mental health and overall well-being through enjoyable pursuits
Offer a sense of accomplishment and personal fulfillment
I’ll have to agree with most of these, but a couple stand out more than others for me. The ones that stand out the most are relaxation, creativity, self-expression, and mental health. Most importantly, mental health.
I’ll be the first to admit, and my wife would be the first to agree, that I have way too many hobbies. A short list would include fishing (of course), reading, woodworking, Amateur Radio, camping, and cooking. If I’m being completely honest, the list is probably a little longer than that, but I’ll stop there before my wife reads this and starts counting.
I’m not someone who enjoys just sitting around the house. I have to be doing something. I love the outdoors and enjoy most anything that takes me outside, whether it’s camping or traveling somewhere just for the day. Sitting still for too long makes me feel like something must be broken… or worse, that someone is about to hand me a chore.
I’ve always been good with my hands, and I enjoy making things out of wood or repairing things that need fixing. When I was a kid, I used to get into trouble because I was always taking things apart just to see how they worked. The only problem was that I wasn’t always successful at putting them back together. Apparently, parents don’t appreciate curiosity when it involves their appliances.
On rainy days, I like to curl up with a good book that allows my mind to travel to places I may never be able to visit. Reading also helps take my mind off the stresses of the day.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that people are reading this who have far greater health concerns than I do. But regardless of your health, you may have had a bad day at work, an argument with your spouse, or just received a bill you know you can’t pay. Each of us faces stress in our lives that can be difficult to deal with.
Because of that, each of us needs to find some sort of escape—a place where we can go, even if it’s only for a short time, to gather our thoughts. Sometimes, that time allows us to find a way to deal with the situation at hand. Other times, it helps us realize we need to talk with someone who can help us sort things out.
As an outsider, I can’t tell you what to do. I can only offer suggestions about what works for me.
When I find myself in a situation where I know I’m going to be stressed, I grab my Kindle and start reading. Before I knew it, my mind had drifted away from whatever was bothering me. For example, the wreck I had the other day has been stressing me out more than it probably should. There’s nothing I can do right now but wait for the police report to be submitted. Unfortunately, patience has never been one of my stronger qualities.
But when I picked up my Kindle and started reading, before long my mind was somewhere else entirely—and not thinking about insurance adjusters, body shops, or police reports.
I also have the unfortunate routine of visiting the doctor for lab work or appointments at least three times a month—sometimes more. This week alone, I had three appointments, and the month has just started. At this point, I’m starting to feel like the waiting room staff should just give me my own assigned chair.
Thankfully, I enjoy reading. Last year, I read 45 books, and quite a few of them were finished while waiting for a doctor to call my name. I also read quite a bit before going to bed. It helps me relax and takes away some of the stress from the day.
Another hobby I’ve written about before is fishing. Of course, I enjoy catching fish when I go, but honestly, that’s only part of it. What I enjoy most is the solitude. Being out there gives me time to think without distractions.
Sometimes I’ll paddle out to the middle of the river, set the paddle down, and just listen to the birds and the other sounds of nature. Every once in a while, a fish even cooperates and jumps on the hook just to make the trip look productive.
To me, that’s more relaxing than just about anything else I’ve found.
Most of the time, I come home from a fishing trip in a better mood—whether I catch anything or not. Of course, catching something does make the ride home a little sweeter. It also helps justify all the fishing gear I’ve somehow managed to accumulate over the years.
I guess what this post really boils down to is this:
Find your happy place.
Find a place where you can go—either physically or mentally—to relax and get away from it all. Only you will know where that place is.
Stress has a way of dragging us down, sometimes to a place where it becomes very difficult to climb back out. I’ve been there, and I know what it feels like.
Luckily, I was able to find my place and climb my way back before the stress got to a point where I couldn’t.
And that’s why hobbies matter more than most people realize.
Tomorrow is Thursday, and this week has gone from bad to worse.
My 4 a.m. alarm didn’t go off Tuesday morning, which meant I missed my Tuesday Bible study. That may not sound like a big deal to most people, but it is to me. I haven’t missed one since I started going nearly six months ago.
I woke up around 5 a.m. and immediately realized it was too late to rush around and try to make it on time. The real sign that I wasn’t rushing anywhere was that I didn’t even make coffee first thing. Anyone who knows me knows that’s a sure sign something is off.
After getting cleaned up and eating breakfast, I headed out to the shop and started working on some crafts with my laser. I’ve got a craft fair coming up, and every spare minute seems to be dedicated to getting items ready for it. My breakfast appointment wasn’t until 8 a.m., so I had some time to kill.
I met my friend Rick for breakfast, and of course, the first thing he asked was when we were going fishing. I told him “Soon,” but explained that I had some projects I needed to finish before the craft show. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled with that answer.
During breakfast, my phone kept ringing. No fewer than four people called wanting to talk about Scout-related matters. Even though I consider myself no longer involved in Scouts, apparently, the news hasn’t fully spread yet.
Once I got back home, I went right back to working on my crafts. Before long, the phone started ringing again. More Scout calls.
Running a laser in the shop requires attention. It’s essentially a controlled fire, and if you’re not careful, things can go wrong in a hurry. After trying to juggle phone calls and watch the laser at the same time, I finally decided it wasn’t worth the risk. I shut the laser down.
At 1 p.m., I had a dentist’s appointment.
I have a love-hate relationship with my dentist. I’ve been seeing him for over 30 years, and I trust him completely. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy what he does. I absolutely cannot stand the sound of a dental drill.
Thankfully, I haven’t had a cavity in years, but every now and then, he has to replace a filling that he put in decades ago. Yesterday was one of those days.
After leaving the dentist, things took a turn for the worse.
While merging into another lane, I was hit by a car. The driver had been turning left onto the roadway and collided with me. Before the police arrived, he admitted to me that it was his fault. But when the officers got there, his story had changed. Suddenly, he was telling them that I ran into him because I wasn’t paying attention.
There had been a witness who told me he saw the young man hit me. Unfortunately, by the time I tried to get his information, he had already left. Now I’ll have to wait five to seven business days to pick up the police report and see what it says.
Today was my bariatric appointment.
At one point, my lowest weight was 165 pounds. To be honest, I didn’t look very healthy at that weight. I had gotten too thin. People were quietly asking others if I had some sort of serious illness and wasn’t telling anyone.
My scale at home said 185 pounds this morning. I knew the doctor’s office scale would be a little heavier because of shoes and clothes. Sure enough, it read 191. Still, that’s lower than my last reading at the doctor’s office a year ago.
My doctor would like me to get down to about 175 pounds. He thinks that’s my ideal weight. Personally, I’m pretty comfortable where I am now, but I wouldn’t mind getting down to 175. I just don’t want to go much lower than that.
The next couple of days will be catch-up days.
I have projects cut out that still need sanding. Items that are sanded but need painting. And pieces that are painted but still need to be glued together and assembled.
But even with all the chaos this week, there has been a bright moment.
My wife and I had dinner with one of my daughter’s boyfriends. During dinner, he asked us for permission to ask my daughter to marry him.
It felt strange even writing that sentence.
I can hardly believe that soon I may have a married daughter and gain a son-in-law. He’s a good young man, and I truly believe he cares deeply about her. I know she feels the same way about him.
She had been worried that I might not give my permission. But I would never stand in the way of my daughter’s happiness.
That moment was a candle in what had otherwise been a pretty dark and stressful week.
Now I’m hoping the rest of the week goes by quietly and uneventfully.
After all the doctor’s appointments, the phone calls, and a car accident, I think I’ve earned a couple of calm days.
Grayfeathersblog 