Farmboy Engineering

Last winter, the handle had somehow broken off the dipstick of my son’s car.  We took it to Jack, who does all our repair work and asked about the cost.  He quoted us $65.00 plus a new dipstick.  This seemed fair, but was more than I wanted to pay. I can be very frugal (read: cheap) sometimes and suggested to Andrew that we could extract the old dipstick ourselves and save some money.  He looked at me as though my third eye was showing.  To make a long story short, we took his car to the Toybox, I drilled a small hole in the top of the remaining piece of the dipstick, and by threading a small screw into it, extracted the old dipstick.  After spending $17.00 for a new one, the problem was solved.

My son was amazed. He asked me where I had learned that trick and I had to think about it very carefully.  I didn’t have a clear answer.  I hadn’t taken a class, nor had I read an article about how to remove a broken dipstick.  What it came down to was that I watched people accomplish things and learned from them.  Working with my grandfather signaled the beginning of this training.  He taught me early on that if you stopped and thought about what you needed to do, there was always a way to get it done.  When we were building a barn and needed to stand vertical beams up that were way too heavy to handle, he figured out that with a rope and a horse, you could walk those timbers up to a standing position.  He also taught me (in a time when vehicles were much simpler) how to shut the engine off going downhill if you were short of gasoline and needed to get home. 

Following his training, I had the opportunity to work with a yard foreman in a Payless store. I honestly believe he could have moved anything with just a couple of rubber bands and a paperclip.  He had a lot of common sense.  He would sit back, look at a problem and then come up with an ingenious solution.  He was not a brilliant man, but he knew how to get things done.  My father in law was also that type of person. He would come up with ways to handle problems others would never consider.  For example, in his shop there was a small square hole cut in the wall. If the electricity failed, he could reach through the hole and pull the rope that released the garage door opener.  He was also the first person I knew to have a quick disconnect on his gas grill on the outside of the house.

I learned plenty from these folks and others about slowing down and thinking through a problem.  I guess it is my turn to move that on to new generations, namely my son and maybe someday, his son.  I heard a speaker say in the last few weeks that when you reach the age of 65, you automatically get wisdom.  I look forward to that day. I will enjoy feeling that I have at least gained some wisdom, and since my son will be over the age of thirty by then, I am sure I will have become much smarter than I was when he was sixteen.  Great things come with age.

I encourage you to look around for people in your life who make things happen, maybe even in ways you do not understand.  It may be the janitor at work who keeps things cleaner than you expect, or the person that serves you the most amazing hamburger at lunch.  It could be a friend, a spouse, or anyone.  Watch them, slow down and think about easier, smarter ways to do things.  This is the heart of farm boy engineering.  Relax, take some time, and figure out an easier and smarter way.

Ugly

Whenever I drive to the Toybox, I pass a new building which is going up. It is some type of government building which will house some type of support function.  I’m sure it will work well for what it is designed to do, but it is ugly.  Even though it isn’t finished yet, no matter what they do to it, I believe it will remain ugly.  I keep asking myself why someone would choose to build an ugly building.  This fall, in an architectural tour around Des Moines, the same challenge came from some of the design professionals on the tour.  Why build ugly?

I spent a great deal of my life in the building materials business and I will say that without question, the difference between an ugly building and a beautiful building is not significant.  Add a little extra trim to the outside of a building, broaden the eaves, or add some nice landscaping and almost instantaneously the building changes.  On the inside, you can change the species of door or add crown molding. Adding something as simple as wallpaper on one focal wall can change a room, and transform a house from drab to interesting.

In our daily lives, we really face the same challenge, though I believe this is a much more difficult task.   We all work to make the things we produce, whether writing, music, math or woodworking; beautiful.  We work to add things others like and find enjoyable.  In woodworking, I find this to be the challenge.  I have a tendency to think and work in right angles and straight lines.  Check out the article on Sam Maloof in Wikipedia.  You will find this picture of a rocker he produced.  There is not a single straight line in the piece - anywhere.  This isn’t what you see in my woodworking. Fortunately, I have found that in using contrasting woods and finishes, I bring beauty to my pieces.  As I continue grow as a woodworker, maybe I will find ways to add curves and variety to my work, but I seriously doubt that Sam, if he were still alive, would ever have to feel threatened by me.

As I think about buildings, work, and hobbies, I also think about what I do to add beauty to my life.  It doesn’t take huge changes to make a difference.  I can change the way I look by losing a few pounds or getting a haircut.  These are outer changes are usually noticeable to the world.  Inner change is much more difficult.  I have lived for almost 56 years and making changes to the basic way I interact with the world is tough.  But the payoff is worth the effort.  I’m fully aware of the areas in my personality and mannerisms which are weak and those are the things I want to work on.  It seems to me that 2013 will be a great year to work on transforming my inner self.

I began this blog thinking about ugly buildings, and by the end, I've begun considering new ways to become a person in whom ugliness will not reside.  I am going to commit myself to adding beauty wherever I can: the house where I live, the woodworking I do, and the person with whom each of you gets to interact.  Each day is a gift, and together we need to make the most of it.  Enjoying each other should be a big part of that enjoyment.  Join me on the journey and let’s see what beauty we can make together.

Momentum

If you spend enough time speaking with any business person, whether from a small or large company, they will tell you they believe in momentum.  Good or bad.  What I mean is when things start going well, in a funny way, your luck starts running along the same line.  Things that could go either way tend to fall your way.  In reverse, it can also happen when things start going badly.

OK, what can we do with that?

It is interesting the way the world works sometimes.  I have a friend who moved back to the state of Iowa in the last few years, and continues to be amazed by the way people treat each other here.  Time and again, I hear positive stories about how they were treated in grocery stores, restaurants, by repairmen and shop owners. I am not surprised as these are the exact type of people I grew up with.  Orrin Black, the grocer, who let me sign for groceries as a college kid and take care of the bill when I could. Rob Marget , who would let me repay a loan at the bank on my terms. Bill Schumaker, the high school principal who allowed me to address the student body when I thought people were acting poorly.  These were the people and stories that I grew up with, so none of this surprised me.

I went home for lunch today and caught the tail end of an episode of “American Pickers.”  In this episode Mike and Frank picked a couple of hand painted tent sides from the old sideshow days.  They paid several hundred dollars for them, and were able to sell them for ten thousand dollars.  It was time for high-fives all around. It was a great story, but then, the better story occurred. They went back to the person who had sold them the pieces and gave him half of their earnings.  Sure, you can be cynical and say this was done for the television audience, but I believe at least part of this story comes from their Iowa background and a desire to do the right thing.

In our family wanderings, we’ve lived in several cities, sometimes in places where each night the news told of the large number of drive-by shootings and other types of violence which had happened throughout the day.  I know this is now part of our culture, but I love the fact that in Iowa, there are more stories about the hit and run driver who felt so badly about it he turned himself in, and oh, by the way, the victim found it in her heart to forgive him; the family whose father is killed in Parkersburg in the worst of situations and spoke first about forgiveness.  Accidental?  I don’t think so.  I think this is Iowa momentum and it is who we are.  Others might say that we are naive, even backwards, but I spent ten years fighting to move back here and much of it was because of things just like this. Iowa has a positive personal momentum, and this is where I want to be.

If this were not a good enough story, momentum happens personally, too. As I begin creating things in my shop, and people see these projects, they ask about them and then want to place an order to buy things.  Sara has begun to get her quilting business up and going and her list of project request is already enough to carry her through the first six months of 2013. 

Momentum is what it is all about.  You can survive with no momentum, or negative momentum, or you can go out and create positive momentum.  I will tell you which I suggest. Now, you should probably know that I grew up in a community whose slogan was, “Just Naturally Friendlier.” Get out there and be the beginning of positive momentum.

Countdown

I am headed to the shop tonight and I am all sorts of excited.  Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with family, friends, and my kids, but time in the shop … wow.  My bet is we all feel like that. 

Did you ever stop to think what you would do differently if your life were a countdown, though?  Would you live differently or would your life still look as it does today?

This idea has been imagined before.  There is a movie called “In Time.” The premise is that you pay for everything with time and you are paid in time.  And then, there is the song, “Live Like You Were Dying” by Tim McGraw.  But really, what would you do? 

When I build furniture, like my daughter’s bookcase, or the Settle I finished for Sara not long ago, I think about the fact that I am building items which will be around after I am gone.  And then I think about the bedroom set my dad built in high school which my sister has in her home. My father-in-law built a corner cabinet which is now proudly displayed in our home.  I think about the cutting boards I have been asked to make as door prizes for a winter fundraiser.  I may never know where they have gone and it almost feels like I’m sending a message off in a bottle. There are many things like this which have visible effects long after we no longer think about them.  Our words and actions can have the same effect on others.

I remember a woman named Marcia, who worked in the paint department at a store I managed.  She asked me a question in passing one day and I had responded curtly, not even thinking, just passing by.  Several minutes later, someone found me and said Marcia was on the sales floor in tears.  When I got to her, she told me that what I had said to her had hit so hard she couldn’t stop crying.  Honestly, at that point, I didn’t remember what I had said; Marcia had to tell me what those words had been.  But you can believe I still remember them today.

Our lives are often so transitory that we affect others and don’t pay enough attention to recognize what the effect was. Too much of my life feels this way. 

If I were living on a clock, with a visible countdown of the time I had left, I think that is the biggest difference I would make.  I would ensure that every time that I spoke with someone, the conversation would be clear, no matter how long it took.  But, guess what, I can do that right now, I just need to focus.  The people I would work the toughest on this for would be family and friends.  They’ve put up with the worst of me and it seems only be fair for them to enjoy the best I can offer.

Now, I will still go to the shop. That time is precious is precious to me, but I can ask more questions and take more time.  As the Holiday season approaches this is a good time to consider the importance of paying attention and taking time to communicate well.  We can all work to take better care of each other.

And then, maybe just for kicks I will go and ride a bull name Fu Manchu. 

Who knows?

Bumps and Bruises

If you have experienced my woodworking you know I do things quite differently than what is considered normal by many standards.  I tend to use extremely dissimilar woods in the same project.  An example would be the armoire I built for Sara out of tiger maple and medium stained cherry.  Right next to each other, I used a very white wood, and a very deep red wood.  Another example is the Settle I finished earlier this year out of white maple and walnut. Again, I incorporated a very light/white wood next to a dark wood.

The other thing which shows up in my woodworking is that I have a tendency to use woods the industry either considers substandard, or at least did at one time.  I love the look of my shop cabinets which are made of pine and knotty alder. The tiger maple in the armoire is a second example of the same idea.  The character of these woods shows imperfections which is what I consider the beauty of the wood. 

When I was still in the lumber business, we were forever running into customers who wanted “perfect” lumber.  No blemishes, no imperfections, no color variations.  Boring.  Nope, not enough emphasis - BORING.  Trees, like people, grow over tens of years, some over hundreds of years, and when you look at the lumber that comes out of them: every variation in grain and every mark has something to do with the environment at a time in the tree’s life.  But again, just like people, beauty comes from the differences, not the sameness.

My grandfather was very important in my life.  My father died when I was very young and grandpa stepped in to do all he could to make sure I grew up as the right kind of person.  He was a laborer, not a professional, but he was very wise about the world and how to actually get things done.  I learned an unbelievable amount from him.  As a child, I remember looking at his weather-worn skin and knowing there was a story in every wrinkle. The life he lived played out on his face and in his hands.

Now I have come to the point where there are several years behind me and the person looking out of the mirror at me in the morning is much older than I think he should be. I look at myself, and my hands, and all of the bumps and scars, and I know that they all tell a story.  Whether it is about stitches earned building a deck on a house in Des Moines, or discoloration from too many summers as a lifeguard with the belief that the sun may be hard on others, but not me, it all tells a story. We all have stories which are told by our bumps and bruises, scars and imperfections.

In a time when it seems like so many are looking for homogeneity - or beauty without flaw; I to honor the scars and bruises.  They are part of how we got to where we are today, and are part of the beauty which defines each of us.  Whether in woodworking, or in life, I recognize the imperfections as beauty marks, signs of how things came to be.

Look around you for the imperfections that came from bumps and bruises; the scars which come from a life well lived.  Look and see beauty in each of them.

Passion

In this time that we live, when someone speaks of passion, often thoughts turn to today’s current images from the movies, typically swirling around sex.  This is not the passion I want to consider.  The passion I write of today is the “fire in the belly” passion each of us has about something in our lives: family, sports, politics, or woodworking.

Earlier this week, I was invited to a political rally for one of Iowa’s state candidates.  This is not typically something I would attend, but the request came from a person whom I respect and like, so off I went to the rally.  I must say, what I expected and what actually occurred were two completely different things.  I expected a loud, cheering crowd and what actually presented itself was the candidate sitting down with twelve of us.  It was a very interesting conversation, one that made me think about those days when politics worked; but those are thoughts for another time and a different article.

Anyway, when the rally was over, I had an opportunity to speak with a man I know only in passing. Our businesses intersect and I know very little about him personally.  I do know, however, that woodworking is his hobby.  I asked him what he had been working on lately and he told me that since his children had gotten older he really didn’t have much time to spend in his shop. 

Then, the miracle happened.

His face brightened as he began to tell me about his weekend. One of his daughters had asked if they could make a birdhouse together, so they had gone to the shop to do just that.  It was obvious in his face and the inflection of his voice that time in the shop with his daughter had been joyous. As we talked about the project, thoughts of times with my children in the shop washed over me, bringing a flood of emotions.

This is one of the things seldom talked about in woodworking - connections.  There are connections you make with your family and friends as well to others who work in the hobby.  Our hobbies are one way we humans truly connect, in a time when many of our connections to the world seem superficial.  A speaker I heard a few weeks ago said your passion is the thing that you have insight about. I believe him.  When you talk to others who are truly passionate about woodworking, you discover they have come up with solutions and plans that are often inspired and many times surprising, even to them.  These are true signs of passion.

It should be obvious that one of my true passions is woodworking.  As you finish reading this, I hope you identify your own personal passion; something that brightens your face when you talk about it, something that creates a fire in your belly. I encourage you to do more with it.

Today I am inspired to do something more with my passion.  I hope you find inspiration to pursue yours.

Have a miraculous day.

Honey Badger Bad

I know many of you have walked with us during the past year as my daughter went through the healing process from osteosarcoma which we discovered on May 15, 2011.  Osteosarcoma is a malignant bone cancer that often attacks children just as their bones stop growing.  It has been a long and exhausting year, but now that we are three months out from her last round of chemo, and the doctors tell us her immune system is back to normal, I am happy to let you know they’ve announced she is in remission.  We are now on a five-year journey to an announcement of “cancer-free,” which seems like a long time, but we have made it this far, and I know we can do the rest.  It’s just the beginning of another “paper-chain” for us to work our way through. 

What does this have to do with the title of today’s post?  For that I get to tell you the story of Meg’s Make-A-Wish trip.  Meg wanted to go to Hawaii, and in early August, we got to do exactly that.  Our cottage on the ‘garden’ island of Kauai had a beautiful view as it was within a hundred yards of the beach. We had a great time as a family playing cribbage, eating good food, enjoying good sleep, wandering around the island and finding plenty of time to just talk with each other.  Meg found a Hawaiian Shaved Ice stand she really liked, requiring almost daily trips.  Andrew seemed to enjoy the trip and food as well, and it was glorious to have him around.  Sometimes you don’t realize how much you really miss someone.  We missed him.

During our stay, we had the opportunity to SCUBA dive four times.  All the dives were glorious, and Meg realized she could still dive, even with new challenges she faces from the cancer.  We dove with Aquatic Adventures from Kauai, and the level of care and expertise they brought to our experience was amazing.  They handled all our needs and made sure everyone was taken care of.  I would recommend them if you are ever in the neighborhood.  Say Hi to Neil for all of us.

Meg had scheduled the activities for our first day on the island.  She’d worked with an outfitter to be able to do some zip-lining.  Now, before any of you get too tickled by the image of me zipping across the landscape, forget it.  Even with high tension cables and reinforced everything, weight limits and I chose not to work together.  The adventure Meg had scheduled also involved a mile or so of hiking over very hilly terrain, kayaking about the same distance, followed by another short hike to the zip-line location.  Following the zip-lining adventure, we ate lunch and then reversed our trek to return.  Andrew and I were beside ourselves as we just knew this was much too strenuous for our girl.  She showed us.  Meg accomplished every bit of the adventure, including the last 300 yards up a 30° slope to get back to the truck. And, just to show us how tough she was, she did it all while wearing a pack she wouldn’t relinquish. 

That girl is tough … honey badger tough.  Sara, Andrew and I now only worry a regular amount about her, not a special amount.  So, off to college she goes …

I am sure there are more adventures to come.

Little Things

Lately, I’ve spent some time thinking about what really matters and I’m struck by something that many of you may well have known your entire life. It really is the little things that matter.

Earlier this week, I met a friend for lunch. We went to a popular local restaurant because we like the chips they serve as an appetizer before the meal. The person who seated us obviously did not care whether we were there or not. He asked us how many for lunch, grabbed our stuff and by the time we reached the table, he had dropped off the menus and was long gone. We discussed leaving, decided that would be too much trouble and just stayed. Let me be clear, the meal was very good, but at the end of the experience, all I could really remember was the manner in which we had been treated at the beginning of lunch. It is the little things.

Those who know me well, know that I love QuikTrip. I believe they are champions of the little things. Think about the last time you were in one of their stores. When you walked in the door did someone say “Hi” to you? If you used their coffee machine or got a fountain drink were the machines clean? If you went to the bathroom was it is excellent shape? Did you notice that they spend extra money on good lids for their fountain drinks, and extra money to score them so that a straw goes in without crushing it? Is their food always the temperature it should be? It is all of the little things that they do so well.

So, if you agree with me that it really is the little things which matter, what can you and I do about it?  Here are some things to consider. You might already do some of these regularly, but today, try to do something new. Remember to smile, too. You can make someone’s day a bit nicer. At the same time you might make yours nicer as well.

- Hold the door for someone for no particular reason.

- Slow down and let the merging car into the flow of traffic rather than trying to cut them off.

- Clear the table and wash the dishes even though it is not “your turn.”

- Allow someone to step in front of you in the checkout line at the grocery store

- Call a friend out of the blue just to tell them that you miss them or are thinking about them.

- Say “Good Morning” (or Good Afternoon or just hello) to someone you don’t know.

We live in a world that continues to get more and more high tech all the time and it's easy to rely on that to do everything for us, but what really matters to people are the little things which happen between two human beings. Take the time in the next few days to bring an unexpected smile to someone’s face. It will do a lot for them, and it won’t hurt you in the least either. Take care of each other. After all, things whether big or little, are not at all important, people are.

Priorities

OK, I am going to say it out loud.  Sometimes, this ‘being an adult’ crap is for the birds.  I know we all get this and struggle with it occasionally, but once in a while, you just want to scream it out.  I had one of those lately. It came to the top of my head today and I really need to share it.

I watch a television show that I LOVE, called American Restoration.  For those of you who haven’t caught this, it is on The History Channel on Wednesday nights, and has turned into my only real ‘must-see’ of the week.  Rick’s Restorations in Las Vegas will restore virtually anything back to the luster it had when new.  Sometimes, their restoration of items I remember from my childhood turn out better than when originally purchased.  Suffice it to say, you really need to watch this show.

Two months ago I attended a meeting in Las Vegas with our software provider.  Looking through the itinerary, I identified a gap in the schedule.  We had a one on one session with Darrin from INxSQL (software company) from 3 to 4 pm and then we were done for the day.  I planned everything out: getting a taxi as well as recognizing I would only have about 30 minutes at Rick’s Restorations.  I had taken several pictures of a meat scale from The Eastside Market that I wanted to discuss restoring and loaded them on my Kindle Fire.  (Side note: The Eastside Market was my grandparent’s meat market which sat between the Garden Theater and Votrebeck’s Jewelry on the east side of the square in Sigourney, IA.)  I was ready to go.

The meetings were good, but as the day progressed I became more and more like a kid sitting on the curb waiting for a parade to go past.  I could barely hold still.

So, 3:00 finally arrived and we began our meeting with Darrin from INxSQL.  I was within sixty minutes of the part of the trip I had anticipated the most.  And what happened?  Although the entirety of the meeting was very good and highly educational, it figured that this discussion was without question, the best and the most helpful.

No problem, we weren’t going to finish early, (which had been a secret hope) but, an hour is an hour.  Unless, of course, the person you are meeting with doesn’t have another one after ours, and the conversation continued to be very good.  And there it was.  The conversation with Darrin was nothing short of great.  I sat and talked with him and watched the clock approach and then pass 4:00.

We didn’t finish until 4:30. Darn it.

I did the adult thing. I stayed at the meeting, learned a lot that I’ve used since returning to work, and missed the opportunity to go to Rick’s Restoration.  I could have excused myself early from the meeting, done my own thing, and it would have been ok.  But, that wasn’t the right thing to do.

We’ve learned to be adults and take care of our responsibilities.  And, we look back at the time before adulthood with fond memories of doing what we wanted to do, and not what we needed to do. Kids, enjoy your time as a youth.  Setting priorities stinks.


Next time I go to Las Vegas, I’m going to Rick’s Restorations!

Paper Chain

 When my children were young and a big event was approaching, one way we kept track of the time was to make a paper chain with the same number of links as there were days until the event.  Later, this became a discussion of “how many sleeps” until an event occurred.  It always seemed like my family was counting down to something; a birthday, Christmas, family vacation, something.

Today, we are in the biggest countdown of our lives, and everyone knows it.  My daughter, after fighting cancer for the last year is down to only four more chemo treatments.  Four! That is all.  We started a year ago with forty treatments and major surgery ahead of us.  Now, we are down to four.  In a world and a time that seems to move at warp speed, this countdown has taken longer than I can even put in words.  But in the midst of that, what we have discovered is true strength of the human will.  I’ve watched my daughter give up major events in her senior year of high school.  I’ve seen tears - more than I care to admit; way too much of the inside of a hospital (although nothing compared to Meg and Sara) and times when Meg couldn’t get warm, no matter how many blankets.  I will never completely shake some of the images and words from this last year. 

But in the midst of all of this, I’ve also seen strength that is beyond words.  I have watched my daughter, while fighting for her own health; organize a fund raiser with the swim team to raise money for the Cancer Society.  I’ve listened to her talk about the hurt she feels for the ‘kids’ - those still in their first ten years of life - on the floor at University of Iowa Hospital.  I have listened to her tell her own family that she understands her grandfather’s decision to say no to chemotherapy, and that if she were in the same place in her life she would probably make the same decision.  I have watched this young lady, already wise beyond her years; take a quantum step forward in her understanding of the world around her.  It has been an honor to watch her grow like this.  It has also been crushing that she had to.

We are coming to the end of this paper chain.  Four more trips to Iowa City and we will be done with this part of the journey.  Meg’s hair will grow out again; something we all look forward to.  She will regain her strength, and keep it, unlike what has happened to her time and time again in the last year.  She will go out with friends and have parents worry about where she is.  She will get ready for college. 

And we will all start another paper chain as we wait for the doctors to tell her she is cancer free and doesn’t have to come back in regularly for checkups. That will be a long part of the journey, but it is the part we have fought to get to.

Thanks to all of you who have kept us in your thoughts and prayers.  We appreciate it in ways we will never be able to explain.  Know that we are here; remembering and thinking of you, even when there may be big gaps in our communication.  We have made a long trip and you have been a part of it.  Let us hope that we will be able to spend quality time together in the near future.