Opportunities

The last few days have been hot.  I would tell you middle-of-August hot, but I had a friend point out to me the other day it is somewhat typical to have days like this in June.  In the Midwest, in the summer, when you have weather like this, one of the things which we all think of is the possibility of a tornado.  Typically, this is something which comes in the evening as the day cools and the different temperatures swirl together. 

On June 13, 1968, forty-nine years ago, my mother, sister and I were on the floor of a cabin on West Okoboji in northwestern Iowa when several tornadoes hit at once.  The devastation was incredible.  The miracle was there were no lives lost.  The following days were miraculous for an eleven year old boy who loved mechanical stuff.  Mrs. Jones, the lady that ran the resort we were staying on offered me a bow saw and told me to cut up anything that had fallen.  And I did ... what fun.

But I'm not really thinking of any of this today.  I'm thinking about lost opportunities and the times I have said “No” when I should have said “Yes."  This time at the lake was a really good example.  After the initial cleanup was done, a lot of people flocked to the lake to help out.  One group of people that came were scuba divers.  In this group was a man from my hometown.  His name was Bob Smith and his son Larry was in my class through high school.

Apparently, one of the tornadoes at the lake had actually become a waterspout, pulling water into the sky and effectively lowering the level of the lake.  Immediately after the storm, we went outside and could see things that had been blown into the lake sticking out of the water.  Later, when Bob went in to recover these items, he found them under multiple feet of water.  This still isn't the important part of this story, but we are on the way there.

One day Bob asked if I wanted to try out scuba.  He wasn't talking about a class or anything like that; he was just going to get me “geared” up and take me into the lake.  This is something I had always wanted to do, but when presented with the opportunity, right then and there, I said “No thank you.” 

What? Why would I do such a thing?  Looking back on it now, I have no idea, but I remember being scared - not of being hurt or worse, but being scared I wouldn't be able to do it perfectly the first time.  Wow.  The funniest thing about it now is that seven years later, Bob was the person who took me through the training and got me scuba certified.

I am listening to a book on tape by Jon Acuff, and he speaks about this exact situation.  He talked about being invisible and making mistakes.  In that lake, in NW Iowa, if I had made a mistake, it would have been in front of one or two people.  I wasn't working on a television special with Jacques Cousteau diving off the Galapagos Islands to be viewed by millions.  It was a learning opportunity and a mistake would have been in front of a small group who knew I was just learning this skill.

But with all of this laid out there, this was not the time to learn this lesson.  There were multiple more times in which I behaved exactly the same way.  Whether it was skating, skateboarding, downhill skiing, waterskiing, it was always the same. I didn't want to make a fool of myself, and I always thought there would be another chance.

Well, sometimes there aren't second chances and the opportunity in front of you will be the only time it presents itself.  So, what am I going do with this info?  I am going to work  to  turn to the Jim Carrey movie and become the “Yes Person.”  I'm going to work to say yes at least more than I say no.  I'm going to work to recognize what things really are don't-miss opportunities.  And I am going to do a better job of recognizing when I am invisible.  When can I make a mistake or a misstep without the whole world watching?

You have been a big part of this over the last couple of years for me.  You've been part of an audience that reads the words I put out there, and when I make mistakes, you just understand them and we move on.  When I run into many of you face to face, you are supportive and encouraging of the things that I talk about.  I appreciate you and thank you for following me on this journey.

Now, go out there and find a way to do something that you want to and that you have said “No” to in the past.  Have a great day.

Lemonade

As the summer heats up, I find myself thinking of earlier times. People call them better times, and often they may be, but I just think of different times.

I was a small Iowa townie. My community was 2500 people, almost all of whom knew me. Not only my direct family, but my extended family lived there. Often times, I had trouble telling the difference between the two.

As days grew longer in the summer, we spent much more time at my grandparents' home. Both of my grandparents worked for the county - Grandpa drove a rock truck and Grandma worked in the county engineer's office. Neither one of them ever knew how to take time off, so summer at Grandpa and Grandma's was always about work. Mostly, it was about horses and the training of horses. Some summers we had as many as twenty horses belonging to other people we worked with and trained.

One night last week, as it was just reaching dusk, my memory took me back to those days. It was the time of the day you reached for all day long. This was when the last horse of the day was worked, cleaned, and put back in the barn. This was the time of day when friends and people that came over would say their goodbyes and head home. This was the time of day for a long exhale, finally finished with all that needed to be accomplished.

This was also the time my grandmother would break out the lemonade. This was never any kind of just-add-water product. This was lemonade made the way my grandmother had always made it - real lemon juice, real sugar, ice and water. This was lemonade served in the burgundy pitcher she always used for lemonade. It was good lemonade in and of itself but what came with it was better.

This was the time of the day when everyone there would stop, sit and relax, discussing the things that were on their mind. These were the times I got to see the world through others' eyes. Whether the discussion was about gasoline prices or the amount of rain we'd had, I always learned something. Even more important, at this particular gathering I was treated more like an adult and less like a child.

I wonder what the equivalent is today.

As we raised our own children it was hard to break them away from all the diversions in their life. The gameboys and computer games, the books, movies and television - all of it. We did not have the equivalent of drinking lemonade at my grandmother's picnic table. I think that was a miss. The interesting thing for me is now that the kids are older, when they're home, we work to make this exact kind of time. Although all our days are crazy busy, we try to stop at least once during the day and just talk. And just like those times of my grandma's house these moments are some of my favorites. This is when I find out what my children think and what's important to them. This is when I find out about new trends, new musical artists, and information I didn't even know existed.

In this mile-a-minute world in which we live, I encourage you to try and find time to have a glass of lemonade. Find time with family, friends, acquaintances, and even people you don't know very well but would like to know better.If we can find a way to do this we will all grow from the experience.

Like Minded

I have been fortunate in my life to have worked and played with a very diverse group of people. All the way back to my days at Drake, I remember conversations about things that make us different - family traditions and experiences from our past. All these things make us different and and if we choose to learn from each other - make us better.

I carry a great deal of this experience with me daily, and it shapes the way I look at the things I have to handle. It makes the way I interact with people different than it would have been without these experiences. I've been listening to a book by Jon Acuff and he talks about the fact that sometimes, until you know the things a person has experienced, you can’t really understand the way they interact with you. This is so true, and maintaining a “lens” through which we look at others, based upon their history and not ours, is tough work.

And then ... we get a chance to spend time with people that are a little more like us. I got to experience this environment a couple of weeks ago at the annual “Weekend with Wood.” These people, all 250 of them, are my people. They love the things I love. They reflect back the way that I view a lot of the world, or at least the part of it about woodworking. Now, based on the group, and me telling you they were a reflection of me, evidently I'm a 75 year old male with some hearing loss.

That weekend was spent talking to people who not only love the same avocation as me, but in many cases they are much more accomplished at it. I spend time at these events learning from the other participants. Pile on top of all of that the wonderful speakers brought in for the event, and it was just about a perfect teaching/training/networking event.

What did I learn?  First and foremost I learned again, if something is not working, look to your process. So many times the process is the flaw. My case in point is around my rail and stile doors. I've gotten pretty good at these, which is a good thing, as I am about to tie in to Sara’s new kitchen, but there has been one ongoing issue I have not been able to fix. In the middle of one of the session, the crystal bullet fired into my brain. I realized the process I use has a couple of steps reversed. In fixing the order of process, my issue will be resolved. Worth every cent I spent.

I also convinced myself it might be possible for me to start working with items which are not straight. I've always said my woodworking is about straight lines and right angles. Well, what do you know! I may actually be able to add some curves and sculpture to my work. This opens up a whole new set of things I can produce. And now ... after all the times I've said NO, it might even be time to think about building chairs with shaped seats. Crazy, right?  I know.

Finally, I learned once again there are always more “toys” out there to add to the woodworking arsenal. I took my first class in CNC (computer numerically controlled) woodworking. This has been in the big commercial shops for years and was always something that amazed me. Now it is coming to the home shop for only about $6000.00 or (of course) more. To use the words of one of my children, “I Need That.” On top of this new home shop technology, I spent time around the folks from Epilog. They make a laser engraving system that is just awesome. If you are considering sending me something for Father’s Day, Thanksgiving, or Kwanza, please check out their website. This will make the things that you build much cooler by adding a little “bling.” https://www.epiloglaser.com/index.htm

I should have bought one of these years ago, but I needed a way to get to work and it was either a truck or a laser, and you just can’t drive a laser.

So, in this diverse world I love so much, I spent three glorious days with people that like to do the same kind of hobby work I do. I found it uplifting, encouraging and just downright motivating. My friend, Russell, is the first benefactors. He needed a project completed and I knocked it out more quickly than I usually do. I've included a picture - a desktop for the new standing desk he is putting in his office.

And finally, if you are a woodworker, wear your hearing protecting, darn it. Hearing loss is slow and irreversible. It would be nice if when I go back to Weekend with Wood in a couple of years we can all still talk to each other. Have a great day.

Interconnected

I had a conversation the other day about how the world has become more insular. We have the ability to shop from home, have all of our goods delivered to us by Amazon (not by drones...YET) and watch all of the entertainment and news we want without ever having to talk to a single solitary soul.  Heck, the time is soon coming when we will get in our autonomous cars and never interact with the world as we go from one place to another.  I may even be able to get in a car in Iowa, tell it to take me to see my sister in Maine, and sleep most of the way there.  Now, that would be awesome.

But then, I was struck this week by the weird way that things can be interconnected, even if only one person really sees it.  Attached to this blog is a picture of a kind of strange box - something I just built in the shop. It is for a gentleman - a friend - that I work with. He sells firewood on the side.  He does all of the work to get and bundle the wood and then sells it along the road.  Several months ago, I asked if he would like some of the small bits and pieces that I generate in the shop to include with the offering as kindling.  He thought that would work and we tried it.  Now, every week or so I bring him a box of kindling. Apparently his customers like it.  Jason places the box I bring him beside his firewood and often it is just picked up by the first customer, rather than portioned out as we had thought it might be done.  As an aside, he mentioned that if he could secure a more stable box to the ground and simply pour the pieces of kindling into it, the process would be better.  Off to the shop I went.

Now, here come all of the connections.  The plywood this box is a piece of 3/4" treated plywood we used for a ramp that we needed when my daughter was in a wheelchair.  And that piece of plywood came from a family friend, Jim B, from the Twin Cities.  He hauled it to Des Moines to help me build the ramp.  Several lifelong friends work at the lumberyard he brought it from. Interestingly enough, Jim has decided it is time to do something new with his life.  I'm certain that every one of us who knows Jim, hopes this is one of the best decisions that he has ever made.

For the top of the box, I used finished oak pieces which came from a neighboring Toybox unit owner.  Over the last year or so, my shop has become the place where wooden things go when nobody knows exactly what to do with them.  Sort of like the home for misfit toys in the Pixar movie.  In this case, the pieces came from an oak bunk bed that was no longer needed.  I've used parts of that bed in several different projects, now with some of the last of it going to the kindling box.

Next on the list is something that you may barely be able to see - a brand mark declaring that the item was made in 'Jim's Toybox.'  The brand was a Christmas/Birthday gift from my kids, Lyndsey and Andrew, in Lees Summit, Missouri.  It was such a thoughtful gift.  I use it on everything that I make and each time that I use it, I wonder how many years into the future that brand will still be visible. While the kindling box won't be around that long, the rocking horse I'm building for the Iowa State Fair Corndog Kickoff will be a treasured childhood toy for many years to come.

As I think about all the people, places, and processes involved in creating a simple kindling box, I am amazed. This item started my thought process today, as I considered the ways the world is interconnected without people even realizing it. Over the next days, weeks, and months, people will stop by Jason's house to buy firewood and pick up kindling. Through that action they will become part of a much bigger interconnected story, though they have no idea these connections even exist.

Okay, that seems deep enough for today. My challenge is to think about the interconnectivity in your life and the lives of those you know. Often times, thinking about and recognizing them can bring a smile.

Exciting things are happening at the Toybox. Still working on my sister's camper -  I need to share more pictures. Additionally, I started building a desktop for a friend, and another person has reached out to me about building custom bookcases. Things are busy at the shop.

I hope my words give you a moment to think, hopefully about people and connections that you haven't thought of for long time. Take a moment today and reach out to one of those people. You may be amazed at what it brings back to you.

Long View

The other day I was having a conversation with a friend when he asked me a very interesting question: What do you suppose old people think about?

Okay, so I had to dig in deeper. There had to be more to the question. As we talked through it, I realized his question actually related back to a conversation I had with my Grandmother when she turned seventy. I may have already told you about this. On her seventieth birthday, Grandma decided she had reached the age where she was no longer gong to tell people what they wanted to hear. Instead, she was going to tell them what was really on her mind. That completely related to the conversation last week. My friend's question was really about getting older - seeing and dealing with more things and having less patience with people not listening to you when you KNOW what you are telling them is right.

In the middle of this thought process I was transported back to being an In-Store Supervisor with Payless Cashways. I was actually an In-store for a long time compared to many people I came into the mangement training program with. A lot of this had to do with the fact I really didn't want to move. What's hilarious about that is that once I got over that issue, we moved seven times in ten years. Talk about pros. We were.

Anyway, I was at the Hickman Road store in Clive, Iowa for several years as an In-store. The way the job worked, the inside of the store was divided into three roughly equal parts. The three in-store supervisors each had one section and reported to the Assistant Manager. The positions rotated to a new person any time someone was promoted, or otherwise left (if you catch my drift). Because of the number of years I was there, I had all of the areas several times.

My store manager was a gentleman named Denny. I learned a ton from him. I am the leader/manager I am today - partially because of him. I certainly do appreciate the teacher/trainer he was. We are getting away from the story. On this particular day, Denny called me into his office. I could tell I was in some kind of trouble. As we talked, he explained to me that I was no longer going to be able to manage the cashers. Although this was just fine with me, I decided I should ask why. Denny went on to explain that I was making too many cashiers cry. In digging through the series of information, what we both realized was that I had reached a point where I was unwilling to listen to any of their excuses/reasons for not doing the job correctly. I had just heard all of the crap too often before. It was like Klinger coming in to tell Colonel Potter the reasons he should be sent home. Potter had heard it all before.

This was the question I was being asked last week. Is there a time when you have heard and seen so much that you no longer  care to deal with a lot of the crap people throw at you?  I believe the answer is yes, with a couple of caveats.  First, I think each of us has the ability to deal with repetitive or trivial questions, but the amount we can deal with is in direct proportion to the amount of other things going on in our lives. When we are extremely busy or challenged, our ability to deal with these types of questions and behaviors is far less than when we are relaxed and not as busy. The second caveat is that the ability to deal with trivial matters is directly affected by the amount we like the person doing this to us. If it is someone we like a lot, they can ask trivial/repetitive questions forever and we will keep answering. If it is someone that has driven us a little crazy from the beginning, this will always be an issue.

So the question that came at me kind of answers itself. When someone has lived a long time, and seen a lot of things, my experience has been they are always willing to help with something or answer a question - but only once. My grandfather was the first to teach me this. He would give me all the time I needed the first time. After that, he believed I should know what to do.

I really think this is the way a lot of our seniors view this. They will always help us, but we should see them as the resource they are. They are a cherished resource - not to simply be used on mundane matters which could be figured out other ways. This is actually much like some other cultures who see their elderly as a resource rather than a liability. Maybe we should think more about that and recognize our more senior members of the job, the family, the community - for the long view they have and are willing to share,

Call your parents and grandparents today if you can and tell them how much you appreciate the help and knowledge they offer you, all of the time.

Shop Blest

First, yes I know "blest" is not the standard spelling of the word blessed, I just thought it looked better. Or at least more fun. One of the things I've done each fall and spring for several years now is attend an educational series that the Woodsmith Store sponsors. They are on Thursday evenings and typically last for about an hour. They cover a great many topics, and even when it's something I know about, I always learn something. A couple of weeks ago, the biggest thing I learned was how incredibly fortunate I am to have the shop space I have.

There was a conversation going on about table saws  It is clear to almost everyone that this piece of equipment is the center of most shops.  Admittedly, if you are a scroll sawyer, or a turner, this is not the case, but for the rest of us, it is. The actual conversation was around what you have to move to be able to work in your shop.  I remembered working on an armoire for Sara while living in Lees Summit. In order to get anything done, I had to pull two cars out of the shop, and then get out equipment and material before I even started to work. It seriously took me an hour to get started and an hour to tear down at the end. That was with good weather. If the weather was bad, it was more of a challenge as I had to get the place warmed up as well.

Now, I come to the shop and am ready to work the minute I walk in the door. Heat is automatic in the winter thanks to a setback thermostat and I am considering air conditioning. My equipment is dialed in so measurements are accurate since I don't have to move things. I have the space needed to work on a teardrop trailer for my sister. Even with a trailer sitting in the shop, I still have plenty of room to work. Listening to these other woodworkers describe the things they had to do to be able to work made me realize how truly fortunate I am.

Then, while I was thinking about woodworking, my mind floated to a bigger place. I know we all face challenges each and every day, but it struck me how blessed I really am. Even though as a family, we really didn't have much when I was growing up, my sister and I really did not know it. The community we were born into and the family we were part of overcame the lack of tangible wealth. The community, and our family made up for it all. We did a lot with a little.

Jaye and I had college educations, because my mother truly believed that if someone was willing to fill out enough paperwork there was a way to go to college. We both had student debt when we came out but we dug in and took care of that as soon as we could. I went into the workplace and thought I would work at my first job until I retired. This wasn't the case, but I have been lucky as I have been able to be a "broken field runner" in the workplace. I have been able to learn things and pivot into a new job/career using all that I learned.

I guess all of these things came pouring in around me while I was thinking about my shop because of the world we find ourselves in today.  In large part, the Sigourneys of the past are gone.Places where people are extended family. Places that take care of each other. They are much less common today than they used to be. One of the places I have the opportunity to work in right now is Neola, Iowa. I think Neola is much like what I am talking about. That community has been able to raise money and get projects done unlike many other communities their size. If you have never stopped in there, you should visit.They have some amazing things going. And their HooDoo Days is a celebration to be experienced.

Anyway, I got a long way off track there, but I know much of what would help this country right now is if we were more like Neola or Sigourney. If we knew our neighbors and those around us. If we took the time to try to understand. If we walked a mile in their shoes.  I didn't grow up in a perfect place, but when I cross the Keokuk County line and start waving at people, just because I might know them, I know I was blessed to learn all of that. So, tomorrow on the way to work rather than yelling or honking at someone, I am going to wave and start my own little movement.

 Why don't you join me?

Gatherings

Whether it is just the time of year, or the holidays, I have been thinking about something lately.  What are the reasons families and friends gather? Groups come together for the absolute best of times: birthdays, anniversaries, commencements, weddings - you know the list. Lately however, I have watched a few gatherings which are a more difficult, and they have made me think.

For all of us, there have been times when family members are sick or dying. If not yet, there will be these times. They are simply unavoidable - as inevitable as taxes.

Throughout the last three or four weeks I've watched the house across the street. We knew one of the members of the household was fighting an end of life disease. We just weren't sure when it would happen. Then the increase in traffic alerted us to the fact that the time had come. Sara did a good job of staying connected during this time. I did not. Anyway, cars of family and friends have been across the street for the last several days, and I wonder about all of the conversations. When we meet, one of the standards things said is, "We shouldn't wait for a time like this to get together. We should get together more often."

This is what I have really been thinking about. Is this the right approach? Is this the attitude we should take at these times? I think it is not, and I will give you a couple of examples of another way to handle this. Several years ago, I went to a family gathering in What Cheer - a celebration of life for a member of my family that had passed - and we were out at the cemetery to bury the ashes. After a bit of conversation and a prayer or two, the time came to actually handle the burial.  Well, nobody brought a shovel. Now while there are families and circumstances where this would have caused an absolute meltdown, not my family. A member of my family just went to his truck, pulled out the long-handled shovel and we continued the ceremony. We all laughed, because it was funny and touching.

Fast forward to last fall - same general part of the world. We were in Thornburg for my cousin John's funeral. The crowd was enormous as John was one of those people everyone knew. They had the family visitation in the Tri-County High school in the common space at the front of the building. When I got to Berdette, John's wife, the first thing I did was make her laugh. I told her that John Ogden was the only person in my life who could get me to voluntarily walk into the Tri-County High School. For those of you not from our part of Iowa, Sigourney and Tri-County were not what you would call the best of friends, in fact, the tension and rivalry between the schools was palpable when students or graduates from the schools were in the same place.

I tell all of these stories about family gatherings for the same reason. There are good reasons to get people together and there are other times people have historically thought of as "bad" times to get people together. When I walked out of John's gathering, the second thought touched me. Yes, I will miss John, no question, but I had the opportunity to see some of the people in my life I rarely see.  Why is this considered a bad moment? Why not just see it for what it is, time to spend with family and friends. We make promises to schedule something, but the truth is, the minute we leave, our life pours in on us and another year passes before we know it.

Okay, I've wandered all over the place with this, and feel like I may have not made the point I wanted to make. The next time my family gets together, for whatever reason, I will be completely respectful of the situation, but will also take the time to hug my cousins, talk to my aunts, and do those things that makes us family. I will enjoy the opportunity to see and be with family. These people can drive me the craziest, but they have always been in my life. I need to take advantage of the fact they still are.

That's what I am thinking about today. I hope it gives you something to contemplate. Next up, I have a great thought about the size of your shop, and what this means to others. I look forward to writing it and I hope you look forward to reading it.