Full Circle

I remember when I first read meters by myself. It was strait after training and I was unsure of just about everything (dogs, using binoculars to read from afar, dogs, trooping through peoples backyards, and oh yeah…dogs). I remember going into the first yard that said “Beware of Dog” with a code in the handheld that read 14 36 34…which means ‘rear, more than one dog, dog vicious’. I was scared. I snuck in the yard as quietly as I could, peaked around the corner and saw the meter, no dogs. I read the meter as fast as I could and “beeeeeep!”, the next house had notes in it which alarm you with a pretty loud beeping noise. Just then I see two dog heads pop around the corner to discover me, and intruder in their yard. I bolt, slip on ice, get up as fast as I can and while terror is ever so prevalent in my being I let out a battle cry as I get back up and swing my bite stick(a stick with a tennis ball on the end of it). I sounded like an elephant. I had no clue what to do and my instincts took over. It worked though, and I didn’t die.

I really didn’t know what I was getting into. Everything was foreign. But it was my first route on my own and all these feelings are expected. I remember this first route like it was yesterday even though it was more like a year and a half ago. It was the only route I read by myself in Reno before I reported to Carson.

Today was my last day reading meters, and I have been reading them back in Reno for the past couple of weeks. As I’m driving out to my very last route of my meter reading career I realize that it’s in the same area as that first route I read. Then when I got to the first street I realized that it was the very route I started with! Out of all the days I decided to be my last, out of all the routes, out of all the cycles I’m ending on the same one I started with. Some would call it ironic, weird, closure, or just lucky. I call it confirmation. It felt like God was telling me that I was on the right path, that this was a completed circle in my life. And now it’s time to move on to another circle. And by the way, I shaved about 3 hours off of the route the second time around=crushed it.

I need a drummer

I've been struggling to find a rhythm with my new job.  I'm really enjoying it, but the biggest struggle for me would have to be the loss of internet at work.  Last year we canceled our basic cable, I thought that would be hard, but the interweb saved us on that one.  We haven't missed one of our favorite shows since then.  But loosing the blessed interweb at work has proved a hard loss.  

Example:  This is my first blog since my new job.  

But I feel it coming.  I feel the rhythm coming on.  I can feel my hips starting to swing and move with the rhythm of life these days.  It's a good feeling.  I'm encouraged.  And hopeful.  This is going to be a good year.

So Long Suckers!

It's my last day of work here at A**state. (I put the asterisks because the wife has proven that people other than friends read blogs with certain key words) I am so excited for everything new this year. It's going to be a huge change not only for my direct family but also friends and other family.

I know it may not sound so christian, but I've never wanted to give a whole town (South Lake Tahoe) the finger so bad in my life. Now that I say that, I'll probably be working the South Tahoe shift at my new job. In which case I will be ninja-ing my way through the streets of crap town to avoid it's lovely people. There is an attitude up here that is one I've never felt from a whole town type of a mentality. It's their identity. I call it Lake Tahoe Narcissism, or Larcissism for short. About 50% of the population thinks that the universe revolves around Lake Tahoe, and the other half think that it should. All of the residents are owed something just for living in such a place.

Perfect example:

Just this morning a 70 year old lady came in with her granddaughter, bad attitude in tow. But it's my last day, I smile even bigger at those people, it tends to piss them off though. G-ma wants insurance because her license is suspended. While G-daughter sits right outside our door in the car (right next to the "No Parking" sign and about 10 feet from a real parking spot which I'm not sure why they exist up here) blocking parking lot traffic from both sides. After getting honked at a couple times by passer's she finally decides to...not park in a parking spot but drive around the block until she sees G-ma outside.

Once done, she picks G-ma up in the car we just insured, tried to turn around in our parking lot that would require driving over our once living lawn and through a snow bank half the size of the car. Hm. More gas and speed right? Wrong.

High centered, stuck, pissed, kicking and cursing car (the car we just insured) she gets out with chains in hand. First thing I do is throw my jacket on and head out the door for help right? Who wouldn't want help? This chick. I almost forgot where I was.

Me: "Can I help at all, we have a snow shovel and we can get the snow and ice out from under the car." I'm also volunteering my dad's help.

20 year old Tahoe princess: "No, I'm just going to put these ( holds up tire chains) on and it should work." Again much attitude in tow. Plus I think it's a little late for chains, the car needs to be moving for that.

Me: "You're sure you don't need any help". Jacket on and heading towards her to see the other side of the car to assess the situation.

20 year old Tahoe princess: "NO".

Me: "Okay, I'll be in here if you change your mind".

About 15-20 minutes went by of me watching her curse and kick the car we just insured, and many other people come and go from our parking lot watching 20 year old Tahoe princess try and get G-ma and car out of the snow bank. They watch her, smile, get in their car and leave. Driving right past her without a offer of help or make sure things are okay. This is by far not the first time this has happened just in our own little parking. It makes me sick. Larcissism at it's finest. Everything is about them.

I finally grab the shovel, and an ice axe (don't ask why we have an ice axe in the office) and tell her I am helping. 20 year old Tahoe princess says fine and gets back in her car with G-ma and slams the door.

Another 10 minutes go by of my dad and I trying to help, we finally we get it unstuck. No thank you or anything. Just a smile and a half wave and down the road they go, in the car we just insured.

Wet, cold, snow in my nice shoes, splashed with mud and snow from tires pealing out over ice and ex-living lawn on my face, and perplexed by Larcissism, I go back in the office with a smile on my face. I am so glad today is my last day.

Sorry for the negative complaints, but I know I'm not the only one with this experience up here. Maybe I should start a small group. Larcissism recovery.

Thank you Lord for placing me someplace new.

Earlier this morning someone came in to make a payment. "Ya, I have pneumonia and I thought I would stop and pay my bill on my way to the doctors." Thanks lady. Thanks. Your germ filled $33 is much appreciated.

Coping with Bunsen and Beaker

Jami and I have two cats, named Bunsen and Beaker. Some people can't imagine life without their pets, I sure can. I won't even get into Jami promising me these were short hair kittens and weren't. But since I just did get into it, I do miss the days of no cat hair on anything. Back when lint rollers were for lint and not for what seems like a whole lions mane on my black shirt.

But here is Sundays experience:

1) about 4am Wake up to a plunger like sound in the living room...a cat is about to throw up a hair ball. Roll over and go back to sleep.

2) about 4:10am Wake up again to a plunger like sound in the hall way...it's getting closer. Roll over and go back to sleep

3) about 4:30am Wake up to yet another plunger like sound right outside our room. Ask Jami if she wants to tag team the mess in our house. Nope. Roll over go back to sleep.

4) Wake up around 7am by choice, clean cat barf in four different spots in our house. It must have been Beaker because he barfs and runs. Bunsen gets the hairball out in one plunger. Beaker's at least a two plunger hair ball extractor. Time to go about the day.

5) Get home from soccer game at about 3:30pm. I took a shower and was really sore from the game, so I decided to stretch in the living room. While stretching, I smelt something foul, like poop. I was really hoping it wasn't me because I thought I was a better bather let alone wiper than that. But I still thought it was me. After some deductive reasoning, I came to the conclusion that the smell was coming from the living room.

6) about 4pm I ask Jami if she smells anything and she says yes.

7) from 4pm until about 5:45pm, it was a series of asking each other what that smell was and sniffing around the living room and spraying Fabreze on spots we thought were the source but to no avail.

8) While preparing to cook dinner, something caught my eye in the corner...something out of place...could this be the culprit?

9) 5:45pm YAHTZEE! Part of me was relieved that the smell wasn't coming from me and that we actually found the source of the smell and it could be delt with. But the other part of me really wanted to call my friend Tim. I've read that he knows how to take care of these cat situations.

We're learning

Our Second Gig

I like to make my wife video tape stuff. Especially when we play out. We learn from it. And this day was no exception to that. We certainly learned a lot.

It was fun all together. We met new friends in the form of bands that we could play with again and we most likely will. Our last song was a train wreck. It was awesome! Mid-song everything just fell apart. Luckily this was a Christian venue and there were no beer bottle's to get hit in the face with. Venues like these are good to start out with because no matter how much you suck and how your ideas of throwing in the towel after sucking (which none of did but it could happen), everyone is very supportive and encouraging. Risen from Reno was a band that were really cool to us that day. We will play with them again.

So on to the lessons that I personally learned.

1) Be prepared for weather when traveling out of town for a gig:
I was so cold. I couldn't feel my fingers. And when you are playing a guitar or bass, that's not good. I remember the beginning of one song (the one that was a train wreck), my mind started on the 1 (first beat) but my fingers didn't kick in till about 1.5.

2) When it's cold or any outdoor venue, tune like a champion:
Several times I could hear a note off, sometimes it was me, sometimes it wasn't. But cold weather can really screw with your tuning. Especially when you are scrolling through 4 different tuning formats for 9 songs. I didn't have my "in-line" tuner that day...big mistake.

3) Know what we want for sound:
I'll get into this on the fourth thing, but playing at church has spoiled me. 90% of the time any of us in the band play in front of people, it is at church. And we have the blessed by Jesus himself Aviom where you have an inner ear monitor and you can change your setting to whatever you want. So if I don't like the way I'm hearing in the sound check, I change it myself. During our sound check I couldn't hear anything but guitar, guitar, and drums. No voices. But instead of saying anything to the sound dudes, who were the band Risen from Reno, we didn't say anything probably because we are so used to controlling it ourselves.

4) The 'I learned in church' factor:
You will definitely see in the video that we don't 'entertain' very well. Or we don't move around or anything. We need to work on this. The band before us had sequenced head banging sessions. I'm not saying we should do that, but some movement would be cool.

5) Don't get frustrated:
We are going to have more gigs where we suck. It's part of band life. Just beware of flying tomato's and we'll be fine. Plus we will still like each other after sucking, so we might as well have fun while we are sucking. We just have to get it on tape. :)




If you want to hear more you can visit our sites:

Our iLike page:


Or our Myspace page:
www.myspace.com/ajlostones

Our Second Gig Ever

So we got a second gig. Not bad. This one should be a lot better than the first. If you feel up to traveling to Fertucky for the evening, we will be playing in the park around 6ish and we would love to see some familiar faces. It should be fun.

The music: http://www.myspace.com/ajlostones

Plus we are playing some original worship songs and some non-original songs.

Photographs

My Friend Aaron. He is my friend. I'm glad he is back in my life. If you want to talk about adventures, he would be the guy to talk to. Commercial salmon fishing in Alaska, hikes through New Zealand, he been a lot of places and done a lot. Then he meets a lady, his lady. Now he is back and settling down.

He is one of the funniest guys I know. I like spending time with good people, and he is definitely one of those people in my life.

These pictures are from our hike to my favorite fishin' hole. Good times. Cousin Joe, Cousin Age, Aaron, and Me.

Aaron asked to borrow my camera...this is what I get.

This is the Golden trout that we ate. I've only seen Golden's at one lake...this one. I usually catch and release because these fish are gorgeous. They literally look like swimming gold bricks. But since we were camping and none of us had ever had a Golden trout. They are amazing! You can't plant Golden's either, so you know that they are natives. Good fishing day too. The hardest hitting fish I've ever had on line.

Speaking of eating...

I'm pretty sure Hailey likes yogurt better on her face than in her mouth. But she sure makes some funny faces while eating new things. I love it.

She also likes to do things her way.
Yes, she is asleep in this one. Looks pretty comfortable.
I'm pretty sure she will play the piano. As long as she likes it. I wish I could play the piano too.

I like pictures.

Pick N Pull: Round Two

I heard on the radio that Pick N Pull was having a half off sale. You can't really beat that. I'm kind of enjoying my time there due to the last two experiences being very fruitful and smooth.

My shopping list included (but was not limited to):

1. Sun Visor - those suckers are hard to find, like jelly belly's on a daycare floor they get snatched up pretty quick.

2. Heater Blower motor - mine was making a really awful noise because the rotor had disintegrated inside.

3. Grill for the Park Ave. - Yes I have a Buick Park Avenue, my grandpa was going to give it away to a charity, I said "I'm a charitable investment." He agreed, now I'm in gangster paradise.

4. A door for my Subaru - main purpose for the trip because this was going to be the most expensive and it was a half off.

All in all it was great. They only had one Park Avenue and it didn't have what I needed, so I didn't get the grill. But if two out of three ain't bad, three out of four must be even better. The door came off pretty easy off of a blue Subaru that got into a pretty bad accident that messed up the front end. But the door was in fine shape.

This is the inside of the door. Blue. And my fears came true as I looked at the wiring mounts when I got back to my house. They were different. So a longer and more tedious project was about to commence as I snipped away at wires I was unsure would ever live the rest of their life as a conductor due to not being compatible with my car.

Just look at that bloom of color. What a beautifully aggravating site. Luckily, Subaru uses the same colors for the same function on the door. Just in different shades of faded. The only thing the new door didn't have was the light down at the bottom that turns on when you open the door. I could care less about that. Here is the finished project.

As you can see, the blue door is in the best shape compared to the rest of the car. And I shall name it Francke-en-steen. Or Froderick. Either way, I love it. It's mine. It's my beast that I will keep until I can't fix it with a trip to Pick N Pull.

Total trip $47 and maybe 3 hours. Totally a great score.

Oh boy

Saturday was the big day. The day my dad duped me into joining him in a brutal, stupid, and prideful hike. I'm a little bitter. Mount Whitney is the second to last one on the right. This picture was taken at about 12,000 feet.

Here are some pictures on my photobucket if you want more: Mount Whitney

One thing that I noticed real quick is that pictures can't describe the awesomeness of these mountains. Truly, a sight to see.

Starting at Big Pine, CA, the Sierra's started getting pretty crazy. Rigid like a breadstick. They come out of the smoke filled sky like a giant from the mist. I started looking at the huge peaks and ask myself "And we are climbing the biggest one...how?" They look pretty much impossible. It was definitely beautiful, though.

We camped at 8,000 feet. At 9:00pm it had to be in the low 80's, so it was really hard to get to sleep because it was so hot. I think the last time I looked at my watch it was 2 in the am. Mind you, we are getting up at 3am to start hiking. So after a good hour of solid sleep, we wake up, pack everything and start hiking at 3:50am. By 3:55 I was wondering what we were doing and why, and praying for my second wind. It came and I survived. It felt like I was on a hike to Mordor to destroy something that was consuming me in some way. The whole way up I could only think on why am I doing this, just to say that I have? I'm pretty sure that's pride. I knew I wasn't going to enjoy the hike. I love to be outdoors, but 22 miles and 8,000+ feet in elevation gain is just for the suck. I began to wonder if indeed it was pride that was driving me up this hill. Then I began to recognize that pride was probably the number one cause for the hundreds of people on the same path I was. I wanted off. There is a section called the 100 switchbacks where I experienced vertigo quite often. I couldn't help but think of how many people could die if they exerted themselves too much on this trail. At about 10,000 feet my dad was really struggling. About every 2 or 3 minutes I would hear a faint "Dave, I need to take a break. There is just no oxygen up here." I could breath fine though.

So on the top of the 100 switchbacks, there is a place called Trail Crest. And those switchbacks really took their toll, especially for my dad. Who I was really concerned if we should even be going on at this point, but low and behold he "was too determined" (I saw pride). This is where I got pretty frustrated and about 20 people experienced me talking to my dad like a little child. Note that this the very top of a 2 mile climb with about a 15% grade the whole way, and we are exhausted, and we just got done talking about how we both got vertigo a lot on the switchbacks. I was okay, but my dad looked like he was about to fall over. So I took a picture of the Trail Crest sign that shows the elevation at 13,600 feet, I turn around and my dad is climbing this cliff so I can take a picture of him sitting on this cliff. I yelled "would you get off of there, your going to get yourself killed." I was pissed, here is my dad who I am trying to convince to really take it easy and here he is climbing this cliff just to take a picture. That was pride. And that's what got me thinking for the rest of the hike.

Here is the picture. You really can't tell, but that rock is poking out of the ground at an angle and underneath it is about a mile of air. It makes me feel ill just looking at the picture.

There were clouds brewing once we could see the other side of the range at Trail Crest. And my dad and I both vowed that the first sign of lightning we are turning back immediately. This is because we are on the tallest mountain around, with 50 people or so on the top carrying metal lightning poles, I mean walking sticks. Many people die at the top because of lightning. So I decided to go at my own pace to the top. I left my dad with about a mile and a half to the top. In my mind, if I got to the top and turned around, my dad would say, "at least one of us made it" and it would be easier to turn him around because of the clouds. At 11 o’clock I hear the first crack of thunder. I ask someone coming down about how much further to the top and one says 15-20 min, and another says 20-30 mins. I knew that there was a building at the top. I just wanted a picture of the building to show my dad and I was done. I got there in 11 minutes. The last two people I passed, had passed us at 12,000 feet, and they said, "you set the pace and we'll follow you." I agreed and they were right behind me for about 100 feet. I looked up saw the building, took a picture and turned around. They tried to tell me "you have to go further than that, your almost there." Bull. I was there, and I'm not going to risk my life just to bask in my prideful endeavor. When I turned around I saw all the people I passed still coming up the hill. As I ran (literally ran) past them on my way down, I couldn't help but think of all the reasons why this was not worth it, and there were many.

I came to the conclusion that there are three groups of people who hike things like this:
1) They love to hike and love the outdoors (those are the ones that passed you with a smile on their face)
2) They want to hike because it's a trail they haven't been on before and it's another great experience (those are the ones who take a break next to you and seem to be interested in your life, I think they also hike to make new friends)
3) They hike because they enjoy telling their friends what they're doing and hearing "Man, you're crazy" (these are the ones who look like death, but keep climbing up)

I fear my dad and I were in group 3. Along with many others I'm sure. But I don't want to be in that group. I'm done. Anything over 3 miles better have some dang good fishing at the top. I love the outdoors, it reminds me of how beautiful life is, but 22 miles is evil.

My wife the Saint

Warning:  The words puke and diarrhea are going to be brought up a lot in this blog.  Consider yourself warned.

There must be something going around.  I remember praying for Ben yesterday morning before worship because he wasn't feeling good.  I remember telling God thinking that it would be better for me to be sick because I'm just playing the bass, Ben was leading worship.  I'm pretty sure that's when it started  :)  I felt horrible the rest of the day.

I hate puking.  Everybody says that they feel better after they puke and it's a relief.  Not me.  I hate it. My body loves to fight puking for as long as it can, until I feel like I'm going to pass out.  That process lasted for about four hours last night.  Most of those four hours were spent in the bathroom, moaning, followed by crying, seconds of sleep, wake up and moan, going diarrhea, then more moaning and crying.  All with my wife right there helping me with everything.  This was the sickest I have been since we have known each other, just about 6 years.  And she's never witnessed the hell that is Dave puking.  I had a long streak going and it all ended last night.  Jami was awesome, she is such a nurturer.  She was up the whole time bringing me everything I needed.  At my worst, she is definitely at her best.  She is a saint.  Right now she is at the store getting the staples when one is sick such as chicken soup, saltines, and 7up.  

So now I sit and think about the things that are pretty traditional for my sick days.  Mainly I sit on the couch and watch the same things when I'm sick: 

• The best movie to watch when your sick has to be The Princess Bride
• Daytime TV is pretty limited with basic cable so there are only two shows that I will watch and they are not Oprah and Rachel Ray.  The only shows I like to watch when I'm sick are The Price is Right and the Cosby Show.
• There is one other thing I like to do and it's so I don't feel like I wasted to whole day, and that is to do a few loads of laundry.

So does anyone else have any sick day traditions?  

Raising of Hands

This is in regard to Tim's blog a while ago about lifting of hands. I thought of this right after I read the blog, but didn't comment in time to be applicable. I also didn't want to leave a long and drawn out comment and hijack your blog. :)



My thoughts: Having my first child recently, I really get to witness first hand, even though just a portion, God's love for me from a "Fathers" perspective. One of the things that I can't wait for is when our little Hailey starts to reach out for me when she wants me to hold her. She kind of leans right now, but the all out WANT with the outstretched arms to her daddy would really strike a cord on my heartstrings. That's why I raise my hands, because I'd rather be in God's arms than anywhere else. Not to be seen, or for routine, or out of American Christian top 10 signs of being a real Christian...sometimes I just want to be held.

Our First Gig!

So this Tuesday, the 17th, we are playing music in front of people for the first time. We've got a song list of like 4 or 5 songs. It should be fun. I don't know if it is too late to buy tickets but they are like $10 or something, it's a birthday party for Renegade Radio. It's a big step for us. Four whole practices in...I'm pretty sure we can pull it off too.

How to make a good man cuss

I've been on this earth long enough to know that when things break, they all break together. I've been battling this fact the last two weeks. At the Harder home, we have been noticing a lot of our stuff forming a guild to break at the same time. Most of the time it's just plain aggravating. But sometimes, like this time, I'm kind of enjoying fixing the broken stuff. Thus, I put up another poll. I was wondering what other people do when stuff breaks. I am the guy who takes it apart to the point I get lost to see if I can fix it myself. I've done this my whole life. When I was 10, my dads lawn mower broke, he bought a new one, and I asked if I could try to fix the old one. I took it apart, never put it back together, but I sure loved using my dads tools to take it apart.

Here is a list of things that broke or went wrong in the last few weeks that I have been dealing with.

1) My dad came over one day and as his greeting (as most dads love to point out things that need to be fixed at your house) says, "You do know that there's wood showing on your roof, right?" The answer was no. Luckily, I have shingles in my garage that have been there since the day I moved in, May 18, 2005.

Solution: I patched that sucker right up. Just in time for the rain clouds to disappear.

2) Our computer (Compaq Pressario 2100 aka the devil) has been giving us the business for a long time now. The power jack has been broken in the inside for a while, but when we tuck the power cord under the laptop, it usually will stay powered. Today, we are lucky to get 3 minutes out of it before it goes into hibernation. I took this apart and found out that I need to solder a new power jack to the mother board. Dave doesn't solder. Eventually, it will get fixed, but not by me. I have a solder gun, but I don't like breaking stuff out of stupidity and pride.

Solution: We received our 'stimulus check' yesterday, the Mac should be here by tomorrow! I heard there should be a "Welcome to Mac, You'll never turn back" party.

3) This is the biggest breaking problem, and have picture to go along with it. Ruby the Suby (our red Subaru) has been quite an interesting project since the day I bought it back in 2003. In 1990, Subaru thought it would be cool to try using pneumatic shocks so if there is snow on the ground, you can raise the clearance level of the car a whole inch to glide over the snow like it wasn't there. The problem is, the airbags were bad and they couldn't hold air after a few years. When I bought the car the front shocks were blown and I fixed them the first month I had it. Just last week, the rear shocks finally gave up trying to live.

Solution:

This is a picture of the front tire, and this is on level ground. Notice the height of the wheel well from the tire...this is good.

This is a picture of the rear, notice the tire is INSIDE the wheel well...this is bad. It finally was too much to handle when I drove to work in So Lake Tahoe and I felt like my kidneys were bruised from bouncing up and down. It was nauseating.

I love working on cars, but there is always one bolt in the whole project that gives me problems. This time, it was a two day/three broken tools problem...but I finally got it loose. Here is a broken 'breaker bar' that isn't supposed to break. I broke another breaker bar and my 3/8" socket wrench.

But finally, I took everything apart and found the culprit.

It was a holie air bag. Now I just need to take a trip to Pic-n-Save and start the whole process in a dirt lot on a car that isn't mine. I am also going to pick up a drivers side door due to...broken outside lock, broken door latch, broken window motor, broken rear window buttons, and I have to hit it with my shoulder every time I exit. I can't wait to be able to use a drive-thru! I'm also going to pick up a heater/blower motor because it was making funny noises and when I took that apart, the knuckle at the end of the fan has disintegrated (I jerry rigged that and it worked for about a year). And last but not least, a sun visor. You never know how awesome those are until you don't have one.

I'm kind of excited. There is something about the satisfaction of fixing a car and it operating in a safe manner that just gets me.

So how do you handle things when they break?

Better Days

Today is different. I have the privilege of borrowing my little brothers car (who is in Iraq) because I am doing about 150 miles of driving today, and my wife needs our only car that can leave Carson City due to the other having 280,000+ miles on it and it needs some minor repairs that we can't afford at the moment. God bless family that is willing to lend a car. My brothers Subaru has a CD player. I haven't owned a car with a CD player since I sold my Integra to barley afford a wedding.

The CD player excites me. I like music a lot.

So I am scrolling through my hundreds of CD's before I leave, looking for a few to bring along on my 150 mile journey. I only grabbed one: Robbie Seay Band - Better Days

There is something about this album that hits my soul while I drive through the trees of Lake Tahoe. My whole view on life changes. Instead of rushing to get wherever I'm going I slow down. I don't get angry at the person in front of me going the speed limit (who drives the speed limit anyway?) and I don't intentionally remind the person following me way too close of the actual speed limit (oh that's when I DO drive the speed limit).

There is something about this album that makes me want to enjoy life, love, and wonder a lot more. It reminds me why my dad rolls down the window in the morning when we car pool and it's 25 degrees outside. It's so he can smell the pine trees. It makes me want to escape the busy world and get to a small secluded lake where all I can hear is the wind in the trees and the crackling of a camp fire. Better Days reminds me that life is good; it's hard, but it's good.

Part of the 150 miles include driving to Reno and testing for a new job opportunity.

Today is different.

And I posted my first poll...I conformed.