Renaming our house

I’ll never forget visiting the home of a lifelong friend of my grandparents when I was a kid.  It was an estate, actually.  And like any estate worth its salt, it had a name:  Broadfields.

Three details about the house stick in my mind:  1) There were buttons in nearly every room that rang a buzzer in the kitchen and indicated the room from which the signal came.  2)  In addition to buttons mounted on the walls, a mound in the carpet under the dining room table concealed a switch that the hostess could press with her foot.  For a kid who loved lights and switches and buzzers and buttons, this was the stuff of dreams.  I did not then – nor can I now – comprehend that these wonderful devices would actually summon a member of the household staff.  So much for being able to press buttons whenever I wanted.

The third detail was a Bentley with a driver named Thomas.  It was a family car, though it’s hard to imagine doing anything practical like grocery shopping, giving rides to sweaty kids after a soccer game, or bringing home a few bags of compost.  Can’t picture pumping my own gas at Costco in a Bentley.  But I digress…

Broadfields always inspired me to give names to my homes, be they ever so humble.  Another inspiration came from “Stately Wayne Manor,” home of Batman’s alter-ego Bruce Wayne.

But we drive two almost 20 year-old cars, neither of which would ever be mistaken for a Bentley.  We do have a buzzer with a button at the kitchen sink.  No servants are summoned; we use it instead of standing at the top of the stairs and shouting, “Time for dinner!” Though we love our home, it’s not really the sort of place that says “manor.”

Center for Casual Living is much more descriptive.  The vacuum hose sometimes doesn’t get put away for days or weeks at a time. We’re hesitant to replace carpeting because it contains so much of our family history.  Our bedroom also serves as an intermediate stop for things on their way to Goodwill or for sale on Craigslist.  Current inventory in the loading dock/bedroom includes an electronic keyboard, a telescope, a small TV and old VCR, and some shelving.

Center for Casual Living.  I should make a sign – there’s probably a nice scrap of lumber somewhere in our bedroom, and some paint, too…

Water: What’s the big deal?

• Sitting on all the drinking fountains at our church are plastic water bottles filled with cloudy, dirty brown water.
• 5-gallon jugs full of water are placed in various locations around the church building to give us a sense of how difficult it is to carry water.
• Yesterday our family checked out an empty 5-gallon jug, took it over to Green Lake, filled it up at a beach, and took turns lugging it less than a half mile on the path around the lake.  It was hard.

These are some of the ways that we’re learning to pay more attention to the fact that far too many people do not have access to clean drinking water.  In the 50 days following Easter, we’re looking at small steps we can take to better appreciate this precious resource.  Each household in the church is being asked to consider how to use water more carefully and to give up a few things so we can put that money into a project drilling and repairing wells in Uganda.

A couple of facts:

• More people die each year from drinking dirty water than from the world’s hurricanes, floods, tsunamis, and earthquakes combined.
• Households in Uganda spend an average of 660 hours a year collecting water.  This represents two full months of labor, with attendant opportunity costs for child care, education, and income generation.
• It’s estimated that $10 billion a year would solve the world water crisis.  It sounds like a lot, but Americans spend $18 billion a year on makeup, and last year spent more than $400 billion on Christmas gifts.

I need help to think about big problems in small ways.  Here’s a good story:

“Would you give a million dollars to the poor?” a Sunday school teacher asked her students.

“Yes!” the children shouted in unison.

“Would you give a thousand dollars to the poor?”

“Yes!”

“Would you give one dollar to the poor?”

The room fell silent.  “What’s the difference?” the teacher asked.

One honest student got it:  “The difference is that I have one dollar!”

In the unlikely event of family conflict: The Meeting

When the kids were about 4 or 5 we came up with some simple steps to help them (and us, as it turned out) work through conflict.  We’d convene a Meeting, which is:

• Offered or required when it becomes apparent (yelling, tears, blood) that the kids could not resolve a matter by themselves.
• Intentionally formal and time-consuming, providing some incentive for the kids to work things out on their own:

Do we need to have a Meeting?
No!  We can take care of this by ourselves!

• A good tool to help all of us better internalize ways to resolve conflict. We’ve found these steps useful in the workplace, too.

The moderator (usually the one who convened the Meeting) sits between the parties in conflict, preferably with an arm around each one.  The setup goes something like this:

Welcome to our Meeting.  Here are the reasons that we’re doing this:  1)  we want to make sure everyone has a chance to say what they need to say; 2) we want to make sure we hear what others are saying; and 3) we want to find a way to figure things out.

First, each of you will have a turn to tell your story while the others listen carefully without interrupting you.  Then each of you will have a chance to say something else if you want to.  I will probably offer some comments about what’s been said and ask for your ideas about how things could have been done differently or better.

Then, if apologies are needed, we will make them and receive them, and we will end with a gesture of goodwill.

Any questions?  Who would like to go first?

It’s often tempting for one party to jump in while the other is telling his/her story, so a simple reminder may be needed that only one person at a time gets to talk, and there will be an opportunity for more comments:

Lauren, it’s Zack’s turn to talk and our turn to listen.  We’ll make sure that you can say what you need to after he’s finished.

Apologies at our house require three things:   1) steady eye contact to reduce the risk of eye rolling; 2) using the other person’s name; and 3) specifically naming the action for which the apology is offered:

Lauren, I’m sorry that I ripped that page out of your book.

It does not require that we feel like apologizing.  An apology is a choice and we do it whether we feel like it or not.

Accepting apologies at our house requires two steps:   1) steady eye contact; and 2) receiving the apology:

I accept your apology and I forgive you.

Again, feelings are not required – this is a choice.  That said, we do pay attention to tone of voice.  An apology that sounds mocking or insincere must be repeated until the moderator is satisfied that it meets or exceeds minimal standards for sincerity.

The question, “Zack, is there anything else you need to say to Lauren or need to hear from her?” (and the same question to Lauren) can ensure that all known issues are addressed.

We always end our Meetings with a “gesture of goodwill” between the parties.  This can be a high five, a handshake, or a hug.

Repeat as often as necessary!

* * * * * * * * * *

One of the things we like most about a Meeting is that it takes us through all the steps needed to get an issue resolved.  Air grievances, listen, take responsibility for our contributions, receive counsel, offer and accept apologies, make a good faith effort to restore the relationship.  Variations on these themes?  Sure – but the essential ingredients are there.

* * * * * * * * * *

There have been occasions when Susan or I have needed some help to untangle our own conflict with one of the kids.  The other adult has had to sit us down and walk us through a Meeting.  It takes only a small dose of humility to fall back on the familiar steps to work things out.  More importantly, it is a powerful statement to the kids that we hold ourselves to the same standards we are trying to teach them.  There hasn’t [yet] been a situation in which either Lauren or Zack convened a Meeting when Susan and I were in conflict with each other, but I believe they could do it.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Susan and I presented The Meeting at a parenting workshop at our church,  we asked a couple of parents to take the part of their kids and role play a Meeting with me.  They really got into it.  The two moms interrupted and accused each other out of turn, reached across me to hit each other, and one ran away and hid under a table!  I had to concentrate less on what I was presenting in order to get firm with them, suggesting we cancel our ‘trip to the zoo’ unless they showed a little more cooperation.  Seemed to us that they had no difficulty imagining themselves in their own Meetings with family members!

Thawing outside and inside

The beautiful blanket of snow that covered our fair city for most of the last ten days has lost about 99% of its charm.  Temperatures in the mid-30s and intermittent rain have turned light, dry snow into heavy, wet slop.  It’s no longer good for sledding, snowballs, or even walking.  We’re ready for it to go away.  To that end, as Susan and I walked to the neighborhood bakery this morning we cleared snow from every storm drain we knew of along the way.

On Christmas Eve an awful lot of people seemed to have last-minute errands.  Unfortunately, that brought out the cars.

I was just starting to make Swedish Toast when neighbor Maureen called for help.  She was assisting an older gentleman whose car was stuck across part of the road at the bottom of our hill.  We ended up putting chains on his older Mercedes.  I got behind the wheel but made no progress going up the street.  He left us with his car and walked up the hill to get more help.  By the time he came back with his grandson and a bottle of wine, we’d managed to get his car off the street.

As I walked back up the hill, neighbor Lisa was standing by her car at the top of her steep driveway.  She hadn’t driven for eight days and missed the last five days of work.  Afflicted with cabin fever, she thought conditions might be good enough to try to get her car out.  I shoveled two tracks down the driveway so she’d have bare pavement to drive down.  That worked okay, but the slush at the bottom of the driveway convinced her to ‘quit while she was behind.’  I drove her about three miles to work in our trusty all-wheel drive Toyota van.  On our way we passed Mr Mercedes putting on chains again, with faithful neighbor Maureen standing guard to make sure he didn’t get run over by passing cars.

* * * * * * * * * *

An article in today’s paper included a picture of a man dressed like Jesus to “show people what Christmas is all about.”  Apparently about 400 people from a church in Kansas are doing something similar.  The man in the picture wore a beard, a white robe, and a crown of thorns, and was reading a newspaper over a cappuccino.

How am I going to explain this to my neighbors?

As I read the scriptures, it seems more likely we’d find Jesus in a Tent City or a soup kitchen or a hospital than sipping a cappuccino at Starbucks.

“When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink?  And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?”  Then the King will say, “I’m telling the solemn truth:  Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me–you did it to me.’  (Matthew 25)

Jesus might be seen in the face of one serving a hot meal, offering shelter, or visiting a prisoner.  Or he might be seen in the face of one being fed or housed or visited; or maybe even the guy needing help chaining up his car.  A good reminder to me – and perhaps to you – during this Christmas season.

Cabin fever

During these snowy days we’ve taken some nice walks, played games, watched movies, checked in with neighbors, done some reading, cleaned up and put stuff away.  Susan and a neighbor walked to the library and back.  I shoveled snow off of an older neighbor’s skylights so they don’t leak or collapse under the weight of wet snow.

I like the snow.  Like being out in it, then being cozy and warm in the house.  Like the fact that we didn’t drive anywhere for three days.  But Susan’s been feeling a little ‘cooped up’ with a mild case of cabin fever.

When I think of cabin fever, I think of two scenarios involving lots of snow:  1) Kathy Bates ‘taking care of’ James Caan after his car goes off the road in a blizzard in Misery;  and 2) Jack Nicholson chopping his way through hotel room doors (“Heeeere’s JOHNNY!”) in The Shining.

So when Susan complains of cabin fever, I get nervous.

Fortunately, so far she’s done things like clean the inside of our medicine cabinet (it’s beautiful), go after grout stains with a bleach pen (dazzling), organize the sewing cupboard (much more useful now), and wipe down the windows that still have aluminum frames (they need it).  But the other night the knitting needles came out and she started “working on a hat.”  Susan doesn’t do much knitting, and this seemed a little ominous.

I’d better get going on some spackling and sanding that needs to be finished.  In the meantime, the axes and sledgehammers will stay hidden until after the snow melts.  And I’m keeping an eye on those knitting needles.

In and out of hot water, part 2

I understand the concept of a straight line, but I have yet to meet one.  Sure, a reasonably straight line can be painted on a highway, but the notion that one’s life moves from Point A to Point B in a straight line…  come on!

Any do-it-yourselfer knows what I’m talking about.  I’m a fairly handy guy, and figured that replacing our dishwasher a while back would take about two hours.  I allowed four.  Our house was built in the 1950s, so of course there would be a couple of trips to the hardware store.  But funky supply and drain lines and a hard-to-access corner installation required five trips to McLendon (the hardware store) and fourteen hours of DIY labor.  I was foolish enough to declare that my third trip to McLendon would be the last, setting myself up to be the “butt” of some plumbing department “cracks.”  Didn’t see a single straight line on that project.

Which brings me back to the current hot water heater installation.  We’re on Day 4 without running hot water, which is a little bit like camping in the house – heating water in the tea kettle for sponge baths and washing hair in the sink.

I got the pretty new water heater installed and plumbed and filled with water all by myself and with no leaks.  Sometimes I amaze myself.  However, the junction box that I ass-u-me’d had the wiring to connect it to power turned out to be something else.  It’s all very complicated – switching from electric to gas when we first moved in, circuits dedicated to other purposes when we added on to the house, having to rearrange the circuit breaker panel.

Before discovering we’d need an electrician, I called McLendon’s electrical department to ask how to determine if the wiring in the boiler room was live.  After explaining how to do it, the guy told me, “Be very careful.  It only takes two amps to kill ya, and you’ve got 30.”  That had a chilling effect on my DIY ardor.

The electrician should be here soon.

In and out of hot water, part 1

Where was that dripping sound coming from, anyway?  And why was the boiler cycling on and off so frequently?

As soon as I stepped into the boiler room in my socks, I knew I was in hot water – about a half-inch of it on the floor.  More was gurgling from a couple of the pipes criss-crossing the space.  Not knowing which valve did what, I just shut off the water to the whole house and did what any thinking man would do:  I called my wife.

Of course Susan was sympathetic and empathetic and ready to be helpful.  I mostly needed to let somebody know what was going on and hear some reassurance to smooth my ruffled feathers.  Mission accomplished.

By the time I got out some old towels, the carpeting in the rooms on either side of the boiler room had already soaked up a surprising amount of water.  Wet, squishy carpet is one of my least favorite things; can’t think of a single instance in which it means something good.

Okay – now I’ll call someone who can figure out what caused this mess.  No need to call Rossoe Energy Systems, original installers of the boiler and indirect hot water tank.  Every other company that’s subsequently serviced or repaired our system has shown us evidence that Rossoe really didn’t know what they were doing.  Color me ‘dissatisfied customer.’

A guy from Evan Conklin Plumbing & Heating was here less than 90 minutes after I called, and boy, was he great.  Friendly and knowledgeable, he diagnosed the problem quickly, explained what had happened, and left me with several helpful suggestions.

The boiler heats our baseboard radiators as well as our domestic hot water.  I was worried that we’d lost both heat and hot water just as a cold front may keep us below freezing for the next few days.  Thankfully heat for the house was not affected.

So I’m off to do some Christmas shopping – for a new hot water heater.  It wasn’t on my list, and I was laid off November 30, so the timing’s not great.  But as a neighbor who serves at a local food bank just reminded me, we have everything we need and more.  Time for us to get our butts over to that food bank and help out.

Out with the old, in with the old

The day after Thanksgiving was quiet, rainy and cool.  The kids were doing their own things, so Susan and I decided to go through filing cabinets and see what we could get rid of.

We dug out bank statements, maintenance records for cars we no longer own, outdated insurance policies, old Daytimers (saving occasional pages), twenty year-old paystubs, lecture notes from college courses that we haven’t looked at for 30 years, old travel brochures, purchase and sale documents from our first house, newspaper and magazine articles on long-dead topics, receipts, prospecti, letters from old girlfriends, certificates of recognition, and yada yada yada.

Most of this crap could be recycled, and we filled our giant recycling tote so full I could barely roll it out to the street.  We completely emptied one four-drawer filing cabinet and made more room in the remaining two.  The cool, damp weather was perfect for burning stacks of old financial records in the woodstove.  Though I felt like a fireman shoveling coal into a locomotive’s boiler, it was great getting rid of unnecessary stuff and heating the house for two days.

When I get on an organizing roll, it can be hard to stop.  Since the juices were flowing, I undertook the transformation of the downstairs [w]rec[k] room into a space for the kids (15 and 13) to use with their friends.  Moved remaining filing cabinets from middle of wall to far end.  Removed two six-foot tables.  Cleared out more boxes of paperwork.  Admitted that I’m never going to reupholster the orange naugahyde chair that’s ripped open and losing half of its stuffing.  Gave away games and stuffed animals the kids no longer want.  Brought in a basket chair scavenged from some friends.  Moved in the blue hide-a-bed that happens to match the basket chair.  Moved the writing desk to a more useful spot.  Brought down the TV and got the Wii out of our bedroom.  Relocated some lamps so the room is more softly lit.  Vacuumed up dead spiders.

We didn’t have to buy a thing to make the rec room so much more comfortable and inviting.  It’s a great place to hang out.  Zack told us that now he could invite his friends over more often.  We’re less likely to be banned from the living room or have our bedroom taken over when kids watch a movie or play Wii.  Clearing out paperwork and better organizing our living space made us all feel just a little more grown up.  I’d have to call that a win-win.

Smooth move

Some new friends are leaving Seattle this week to move back to sunnier, warmer, friendlier Florida.  We’re sad to see them go but know that they are returning to family and loving friends who can’t wait to have them back.  That’s good.

They have done a great job of getting rid of nearly all of their stuff through Craigslist, word of mouth, and Goodwill.  Congratulations, Nathan and Beth, not only for meeting the rigorous standards of a Smooth Move, but for doing so with a kid who’s less than a year old.  This is a rare achievement, and you have done it with grace and style.

——————

And just what is a Smooth Move, you ask…  It is the gold standard for moving one’s household, and in all modesty, Susan and I set that standard the last time we moved.

We knew several months ahead of time that we’d be moving and we did not yet have kids, so we took full advantage of the lead time to go through all of our stuff.  Every evening we would focus on one thing in the house – a bookcase, a drawer or two, a shelf in the garage – and determine what to keep, what to give away, what to toss.  We made it our goal to pack two or three boxes every day if we could.  We clearly marked on each box what it contained, and after the deal on the house closed, we then wrote where each box should go in the new place.

30 friends helped with the actual move.  We invited them to join us for a leisurely breakfast at about 10:00 on a drizzly Seattle Saturday morning.  Three guys were in charge of packing the U-Haul truck; that team was led by a man whose workshop was meticulously organized, and who could load more dishes into a dishwasher than anyone we know.  The rest of the crew was carrying boxes and furniture out of the house to the truck.  Everything was packed, identified, and ready to go.  Susan and I didn’t move any stuff ourselves; we were busy answering questions and directing traffic.

Everything was moved out of the old house and into the new one in about four hours.  At the new house, Susan and I again answered questions and directed traffic.  By late afternoon our clothes were hanging in the closets, the beds were all made, the stereo was hooked up, towels were hung in the bathrooms, and the kitchen was unpacked and operational.  We had a wonderful home-cooked meal with the crew (I remember the stew that my Mom made) and felt like we were mostly settled in the new place that first night.  What a great gift from friends and family.  We presented the crew with commemorative T-shirts we’d made up as one expression of our appreciation for all of the help.

This was a sweet, clean, painless move for us and for those who helped us – they’d even tell you it was fun.  Started out with good food and coffee, then got right to work actually moving stuff.  No sorting.  No wondering.  No running for boxes.  No packing.  This, my friends, is a Smooth Move.  If you have to move, and even moreso if you are helping others to do so, I hope it’s a Smooth Move.  Amen.

Better to stay home

We’d rather be home on Black Friday (day after Thanksgiving, traditionally the busiest shopping day of the year) than at the malls.  In addition to saving our pennies, it’s a chance to play games with the kids, invite some friends to join us for Thanksgiving leftovers, go for a walk, and enjoy a day when we don’t have to be somewhere else.

It’s also a good way to avoid this:

Have a happy Thanksgiving holiday.